


The Cost of Health

by Dienophile



Series: Blood transfusion [2]
Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Dark, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Medical, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24921490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dienophile/pseuds/Dienophile
Summary: Sequel to Remedy for Heartache: Revolves around trying to figure out a romantic relationship while two new threats show up, one a vampire and the other a disease.
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Series: Blood transfusion [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803490
Comments: 14
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a pretty direct sequel, so it may not make much sense without first reading that one. Advance warning that this will contain some illusions to suicide.

The man had a very thin face, with the skin looking as though it had been fitted for a much different physique and now lay awkwardly on a much smaller model. A tailor would have been horrified. 

“He refuses to eat, he claims it’s some sort of protest against the world. He chooses to starve until the coppers start looking for his son.” Lottie looked up, her face oddly stony, a far cry from her normally cheerful disposition. 

“At least he stands up for something. Callin’ attention to the way people are treated here, worse than cattle really. Those pricks look on us as shit, but he’s willing to do something.” Giselle wobbled slightly in her loud proclamation. She stood just outside the tent set up on the perimeter of the shelter. 

“Starving is hardly helping anyone.” Lottie gave her sister a dirty look, “Supporting him like that. Will you help dig his grave too? Killing yourself is hardly a moral move, accomplishing things takes effort.” 

“And what can one person do anyway? This is a way to send a message that some things are more important than one person’s life.” 

“Seems stupid to me! Living is hard, this is just wallowing in one's own sadness.” 

“What are you two arguing about?” Louise walked in, carrying a bucket of mostly clean water. She looked between the two sisters, each red in the face. 

“Giselle is just being stupid.” Lottie gave a cold glare then proceeded to walk out. “I’m going to get him some soup.” 

“Lottie is bitter because she doesn’t believe in anything.” The sister yelled after her, clearly furious. Lottie responded by slamming the side door into the shelter. 

“That was needlessly cruel.” Louise put down her bucket in the tent. “Your sister was simply trying to help.” 

“She can be so stubborn sometimes! She knows how to bother me.” 

“She is your sister.” 

Giselle waved a hand through the air, exasperated. “Family is shit sometimes.” She looked over to see Louise narrow her eyes and leave. “Wait, Louise, I didn’t...shit.” She swore angrily and ran after the woman. 

There was silence for a moment in the tent before a man appeared, seemingly bleeding out of the shadows. He stood tall, ghostly pale before taking a seat beside the withering old man. 

“You are dying mortal, and slowly, quite painfully. Odd to consider, your lives are so short, already so fragile, why do you bother shortening your existence further.” The voice was soft, gentle. He gently folded hands over his knees, almost impossibly graceful.

“Who are you?” The voice gasped out, dry and tired. 

“I promised I would pay you a visit. A last request as it were. I was told to pass on a message, simply that you were a good father and tried your hardest. The message was cut tragically short I am afraid, but the soul of the message made it through. Though I am not sure why such a voyage was necessary, very soon you will have no need for messages, or anything really.” 

“You, you met my son?” He sounded almost hopeful, verging on panic.

“Only briefly, our meeting was short but fruitful on my part. He is playing an important role in a much larger picture. Truly, you ought to be proud. His death will accomplish so much more than he was ever able to during his life.” 

“He, he’s dead?” 

“Quite, but sadly his passing was far quicker than my usual prerogative. I like to speak to mortals who are in such a unique position. Hopefully you will serve better on this account. You see, I like to see myself as a scholar, a philosopher even. You may see me as a lady, and you as my Boethius. Now I must inquire, what does it feel like to starve? It is painful? I have seen such impressive survival instincts in men, how do you circumvent them?” He rested his head on a hand, leaning in his voice dripping with curiosity. 

“Where is my boy?” 

“Gone. I am sure there is a more poetic term for it, but his brain is currently decomposing. I am sure others will claim you will be with him soon, but doubtful you would be able to walk the distance necessary.” 

“You are here to torment me, a demon!” 

“A rude, but honest mistake. However, you are wrong on both accounts. I am here as an academic, to understand your visions. Now, how does it feel to starve? Are you afraid?” 

“It hurts monster, the world is cold and empty. My son was my whole world.” 

“Why keep hurting, it seems against your happiness and preservation.” 

“It won’t stop now. The lord is waiting for me now.” 

“Then close your lungs, stop your heart, break your spine. It could be quite painless before the void.” 

The man leaned back, his eyes closed. “I’m afraid.” 

“Of nothingness? A quaint idea. How do you mortals ever survive? Still I find your cowardice dull, as my message has been delivered I will bid you a pleasant entry to the void.” He stood up to leave. 

“Did my boy suffer?” 

“Tremendously, it always ends up causing more harm to cling onto existence yet you mortals never cease to amaze me with your attempts.” 

The man coughed loudly, his whole body rattled. He groaned loudly, clearly in pain. 

“Is your fear the same as if you were attacked? Is the slow destruction of your body perhaps more frightening than the sudden ending other are offered.” 

“Leave me monster.” 

He sighed as he got up, “you are tossing away a chance to cement yourself into my memory, an object that will outlive your own existence.” 

“Monster!” 

He smiled as he faded into the night “I am death, the mighty destroyer of the world, out to destroy. Even with your participation all the warriors standing in array in the opposing army shall cease to exist.” 

-

“That can hardly be called a dinner.” 

The hunter rolled his eyes while shoving an apple into one of numerous pockets on a coat. “Like you can talk about normal eating habits.” 

“You forget, which one of us has a medical degree?” 

“Thought you british sods always claimed that apples kept doctors at bay. Perhaps some secret hidden weakness that could be exploited.” 

The doctor rolled over, he had been watching the man get ready to leave from the comfort of a bed, still warmed from it’s recent occupant. “I find myself skeptical of such unproven theories. Still you are ignoring the initial comment. You should eat something.” 

“One of the lads eats only food soaked with garlic, says it prevents any bloodsuckers from attempting to taste. Maybe he was onto something.” 

“I find it difficult to think of anything that would make you appear less appetizing.” 

A laugh, “Fuck Jonathan, feeling happy today?”

“Comfortable.” 

“You look it, like a fucking cat you are. Lazy creatures, sleep away the day in a warm spot. Next trap I'll leave a heater out in the street, wait for bloodsuckers to curl up all harmless.” 

“Must you leave now?” Jonathan let his head dip onto his palm keeping him propped up to maintain eye contact. 

“No matter how fuckable you try to appear, yes. One of the lads thinks he found a brand new lair. Probably just some homeless urchin with a morbid taste in decorations but must check. You have a shift tonight?” 

Jonathan rolled back, wrapping blankets around himself, hoping to preserve any warmth left. “Doing a surgery tonight, should be routine, then Sean Hampton wanted a word.” 

“That shit is still allowed around people? You just watch, one day he’s start nibbling.” McCullum sighed, deciding to not repeat an earlier argument. He opted instead to leave, giving one final wistful look at the cocooned figure on his bed. “Until tomorrow, good luck with surgery.” 

“Goodnight Geoffrey, be careful.” 

-

“Good evening Sean, you wanted my help?” Reid walked through the shelter, noting the tense mood in the air. He had noticed the absence of the normally cheerful Lottie doing rounds outside the shelter. 

“Ah, good evening Doctor. Yes, I had wanted your advice on a patient here, however he has just left to join the Almighty earlier this afternoon.” 

“Tragic, what was the malady that took him?” Reid looked around, people were being noticeably quiet. 

“Many things Doctor, but perhaps we should talk in my room.” He led the way over, seemingly unperturbed by the atmosphere. 

Sean closed the door behind them, moving to light candles. His eyes seem to glitter gold in the dancing flames making his appearance more unsettling. “Poor Mr Thompson, he was hoping to raise awareness for the recent disappearance of his son. He refused to eat until the child was found. The poor lost man, so much suffering.” 

“Anything special about his death?” 

Sean lit another candle, taking a moment to consider. “He simply stopped breathing Doctor, nothing terribly different about that. Before he left this earth though, he mentioned something to young Lottie. He said he saw a demon, an agent of Satan coming to meet him. A man with a soft voice enticing him to death.” 

“A Demon?” Reid tried to keep the skepticism out of his voice.

“While such prophetic dreams are not uncommon Doctor, and I was proud that he stood up to the unholy temptation, his description of the monster was a problem. He mentioned a soft spoken, well dressed man with a foreign accent. How the monster blasphemed and spoke ill of his son. He said the man never blinked, but stared, his dark eyes ringed with red as though they were bathed in blood.” 

“A vampire.” Jonathan interjected, as though forcing the story to reach its conclusion. 

“That is a possibility. But if it was Doctor, the man was untouched. Why enter the room of a patient and cause only pain to his soul?” 

“I am not sure Sean, but a rogue Ekon is problematic either way.” 

“Quite Doctor, and this one seems to have pledged his allegiance to the unholy. He must be kept away from here doctor, lest he poison the well.”

-

Tom was washing glasses, whistling something cheerful. He felt a little irritated when someone ran running, full tilt into his bar, however the negative emotion fell away the moment he saw the man’s face. He was clearly terrified. 

“I need help, I need help now!” The man managed to scream out, eyes wide and body shaking. 

“Calm down man, what’s happened?” 

“They’re all dead!” He was waving, demanding someone follow him. 

Tom gave ---- a look, before following the terrified man out. They moved at a near sprint, ending outside a house with a collapsed door. The place stank. It was a mixture of sewage and rotting, it was somehow worse than any mass grave or the stench that had covered London during the last few months. The man was waving wildly inside. “I hadn’t heard from family in days, and this? What is this?” 

Tom, breathing through only his mouth, entered the house. He found the first body in the kitchen, it looked recent enough. Tom tried to stop his eyes from watering, the smell was making him nauseous. The older woman had been in her kitchen. Tom rolled the corpse over, looking straight into a face of pain, and confusing, cheeks with a blue tint. 

“This isn’t flu.” The man said simply. 


	2. Chapter 2

Reid found Avery waiting inside the home, clearly hoping to intercept him. The longtime helper stood just before the staircase, practically blocking the route upstairs. “Good evening Master Jonathan.” He pulled himself straighter as Reid entered the house. “I was hoping to find you tonight sir.” 

“Evening Avery, how may I help?” He moved inside, closing the door behind him. 

“I spoke to the locksmith earlier this week sir, this was just finished.” He pulled out an iron key on a chain, offering it to the doctor. 

“I have a key already.” Reid took the gift, confusion clear on his face. 

The man nodded, “Of course sir, this is for you to offer to your friend sir.” He shifted in slight discomfort but kept the calm expression. “Your mother insisted on the young man having his own access to the house, she wishes to encourage more visits. Claims having someone alive around is beneficial.” 

“Oh, thank you.” He slipped the key into a pocket, suddenly glad it was easier to suppress blushes after rebirth. He moved around the helper, hoping to change clothes before a guest arrived.

“I have also added another dresser to your room sir, in case the gentleman would like to keep any personal items here.” 

Reid stopped, finding himself frozen at the landing. “He stays in the guest room when here.” He hoped his voice stayed steady. 

“Of course sir. I would never contradict you sir.” He gave a small smile,” If that is all, I have left out dinner in the kitchen, a french stew if you find yourself hungry. I will be going to bed sir, your own mother retired earlier.” He nodded and left. 

Jonathan entered his own room cautiously, noting the new piece of furniture. It felt oddly out of place, and empty. 

-

“Fuck this is good.” The phrase was slightly obscured by the mouthful of food. McCullum followed up this statement by cleaning a bowl using a chunk of bread, not wanting to miss a single drop. 

“Glad you like it.” Reid relaxed back in a chair, he enjoyed watching food being appreciated. It invoked memories of being a proper human again. He waited until the irishman leaned back, giving a sound of satisfaction before pulling out a key from his pocket and tossing it over. 

“It’s a key to this house, my mother insisted.” He tried to keep a straight face, though keeping his eyes locked hoping to discern any change in mood. The other man played with the object in his hands, staring and not speaking. Jonathan took the moment to clean up the table, putting dishes to the side and putting a hand on the hunter’s shoulder. “Is that a problem?” He noted the steady heartbeat.

“No, just a little surprised.” 

Reid stood behind the chair, moving one hand into the man’s hair, pulling his body closer. The other hand gently touched a shoulder, gently massaging. He could watch the blood pump through his body, a soothing sound. It was so uniquely his, relaxing yet enticing. “You are always welcome here.” He murmured. 

“Oh I thought I was just here to steal food.” 

“Hardly, you have many more talents.” Reid dropped down, whispering his compliment into the hunter’s ear. 

“Ah of course, I’m also here for debauchery with a famous doctor.” He laughed slightly, heart rate increasing, pocketing the key. 

“If that is an offer.” Jonathan trailed off, rising back up and moving towards the stairs. He heard the hunter swear softly before following him. 

Jonathan slipped into his room, moving past the new side table. He pushed that to the back of his mind as Geoffrey closed the door behind himself. Reid let himself be pushed backwards, landing lightly on a bed. A mouth captured his, a knee gently pushed his own legs apart and a hand already starting undoing his shirt. 

“Your clothes are too fucking complicated.” A growl as a waistcoat was dropped unceremoniously on the floor. He made a happy noise when hands found bare skin. 

Reid leaned back, the skill of his partner never ceased to amaze and excite him. For a man who struggled with cuff links, he knew how to drive a person wild. He helped the man shed the last of their clothes, pulling the warm body closer. 

“What would you like?” McCullum whispered, voice low. He held a tight grip on the man’s hair, the other running teasingly on his upper thigh. He could feel the man’s want, pressing into him. 

Reid pulled up from kissing the man’s collarbone, moving to roll ontop of his partner. Hands moved down to his hips, one still caressing him, teasing. “I want, this.” He bent down for a kiss. 

“You want to get fucked Jonathan. You want to ride on my hard cock.” 

The doctor rolled to lie next to his partner, giving a long kiss. “Filthy.” Chucking, he got up, looking into his own bedside table, clearly looking for something. 

“Hypocritical doctor, you should hear the stuff that comes out of you when I press into you just right.” The man rolled on his back, still staring at his partner. 

Reid gave him an amused yet annoyed expression before looking through a drawer. He pulled out a bottle, then stopped and stared. 

“Something wrong Jonathan?” 

“No.” He climbed back onto the bed, handing the bottle over to his partner. He knew he had not recently filled anything up, yet there was a fresh towel, a refilled bottle and a small piece of dried lavender. Someone had clearly cleaned up. He sighed, decided to forget about this for the moment, a simple task as a warm hand began to properly stimulate his body, moving him into a better position. 

The hunter particularly enjoyed this. While it offered him a great deal less control, it had the best view. He almost regretted the time it took to ensure the vampire wouldn’t do anything dangerous if given more control. However, all that time was not wasted, as the doctor restrained his hands he felt no need to panic. He could simply enjoy the sensation, the show of having his alabaster partner tremble with lust, the pride of knowing that such a creature was being satisfied by his own body. He let a hand gently lie on the vampire’s thigh, teasing further stimulation. As much as this bed, this room was comfortable, he almost preferred having the vampire in his own bed. Jonathan was so much more wonderfully vocal there, still his glassy eyes and pants were lovely enough. He heard his own name moaned softly as the doctor found release. 

“So was the lair related to vampires?” Jonathan curled up as an arm wrapped around him, finally breaking the long period of peaceful silence. He was sincerely pleased that he had convinced McCullum to sleep naked after sex. Warmth flowed through bare skin so much easier.

“What? Oh ya, that. Maybe. We set up a couple of traps just in case. If not a vampire then a crazy, like fucking insane freak.” He ran a hand down the man’s pale back. 

“Hm, they might be a new Ekon running around. Sean mentioned that one of his patients spoke to a man with red tinted eyes.” Jonathan rested a head in the crook of the man’s neck, breathing in his scent. 

“I’ll tell the boys to keep an eye out. Any other descriptions?” 

“Other than foreign, not really, he didn’t touch the patient though, oddly enough. Perhaps he was not hungry.” 

He heard a grumble as a reply. “Hungry or not, he’ll burn soon enough.” 

“Vicious creature, such a threat to my very existence. Perhaps I should protect my fellow kin.” Jonathan hissed in fake outrage.He ran fangs along the man’s neck, not breaking the skin but enjoying the increase in heart rate. He could feel the human’s blood starting to run hot. 

“Careful Reid.” The threat sounded far too heavy to be serious. 

“Or what? You are brave to threaten me.” 

“Oh, I think I’ve got you under my control.” McCullum rolled him over, Jonathan immediately responded giving the man easy access to his body. He felt teeth on his neck, groaning as a response. It was shaping up to a lovely evening. 

-

“Doctor Reid?” A knock accompanied the inquiry outside his office door.

Jonathan looked up from his desk, he was pouring over documents but distracted. After a highly pleasant evening, he had awoken to a joyful surprise. The new dresser had several additions, some clothes and basic weaponry. They all smelt exactly like their owner. Proof perhaps that the owner would return. He smiled down, before composing to a more professional face. 

“Please come in.” He rose and walked over to the examination table. 

A well dressed man walked in, he seemed completely confident in himself, and was holding a small box. The coat had neat fur trim on the edges, clearly expensive. He looked up to meet Jonathan’s eyes, an easy smile on his face. His own pupils were rimmed with red, like a drop of blood in water before being mixed. 

“A pleasure Doctor, I have heard so many good things. Apologize for not introducing myself earlier. You may simply call me Maurevert.” He gave a flourishing half bow, taking a light seat on the examination bed. A slight french accent accompanied his easy manners. The box was put next to him.

“You’re an Ekon.” Jonathan pulled up a chair. “Why are you here? This is a hospital.” He felt a gun in a pocket, just in case.

The man looked around, never dropping the pleasant expression. “Yes, I have heard much about this place. It served as the last bastion between the plague and mortals. Your administrator has only compliments towards yourself as a physician.” 

“Dr Swansea has met you?” 

“Yes, though only the singular time, our meeting was cut short. Though, time is something we both have an ample supply of. I am sure I will have the pleasure of his company in the future. He described you as both an excellent physician and a moral creature.” 

“This bothers you?” 

“On the contrary! You fascinate me. I have always been interested in the changing perspective our condition gives. Many begin their new lives convinced that their morality is inevitable, a permanent part of their personalities, of their essence. Though, most quickly discover that such attitudes change along with our mindset. Immortality offers many things, but a new lens upon which to view the world is both the most critical and least discussed part of the change. Hence why you are so fascinating doctor.” 

“I am still me, no matter what happened.” 

“Perhaps you are. Though you have only been recently born, that may yet change. Tell me doctor, are you a fan of literature?” 

Reid leaned back, feeling a bit confused by this whole conversation. “I am, though my reading is mostly limited to medicine.” 

“A wonderful Russian writer had this fascinating idea about lives and their worth. His protagonist declared that certain extraordinary individuals will offer far more to society than others. As a man of medicine you can grasp that Paracelsus, a genius of his time has offered a huge amount to society as whole.” 

“Of course, though I am unsure where this line of questioning is going.” 

“Ah, “judge a man by his questions rather than his answers” but it will soon become clear. Now say Paracelsus stole an item of some value. Had he gone to jail, he may never have changed the course of medical history. Would it have been right to judge him under the same laws as the rest of man? Does mortality hold true for the greatest of thinkers, or are they above the rest of mankind?” 

“In my experience, men are worth saving and laws should be followed.” 

“That is a lie Doctor. You are still thinking like a mortal. You will find that the morals that compose your essence are far more malleable than you might wish to consider. Lives are not equal doctor.” He got up, still looking cool and confident. “I look forward to conversations with you Jonathan Reid, but now I must retire for the evening. Until we meet again.” 

“You should not be here, you are a danger to these people.” 

“Oh doctor, I only recently arrived in this lovely country and am on the hunt for comrades. I hope you will make the cut as it were.” He left the box as he vanished from the room. Quick, even for an Ekon. 

Jonathan pulled open the wrapped box. Inside was a perfect carved statue, it stood about 30cm tall, carved from cold white marble. A man on horseback, brandishing a bow and wearing a crown. The man had no face carved. Jonathan waited for two minutes, sitting in total silence before dropping the item and pushing his way into Dr Swansea’s office, feeling an odd mixture of anger and worry. 

“Ah, good evening Jonathan.” 

“Not now Edgar, who was that?” He gestured towards the door. He let the question sit as a dawning recognition pass over the other’s face. 

“I see you met our newest arrival. I believe he currently goes by the name Maurevert. Quite a fascinating fellow.” 

“He’s an Ekon Edgar, and you let him into a hospital.” 

“We both reside here Jonathan, plus I find it unlikely he would touch any of the patients. A hunch which has been born out. He came looking for you last night after your successful surgery. He seemed a little upset to have missed you, so am glad you two have finally met.” 

“He could cause untold havoc! Edgar, you can’t just let someone like him wander around!” 

The administrator scoffed, “Come now my friend. The man is a little unorthodox but is not the type to do anything so wild and violent. You ought to give him a shot. He may seem like quite the rogue, but I find him quite fascinating.” 

“He has killed people, you saw his eyes!” 

“Calm down now Jonathan, he has done nothing to either of us. If anything, he has been quite polite, charming even. Now, you and him should try and get along. It would be best to avoid confrontation.” 

“If he tries anything on the people here, I will stop him.” 

The administrator sighed, collapsing into a chair. “I wish you two would just get along.” 

“If he stays in line.” Jonathan moved out, feeling oddly furious. He just closed the door behind him when Nurse Hawkins came running. 

“Sir, a young lady from the Limehouse dock’s claiming to know you is insisting you hurry over. Some sort of medical emergency.” He followed down the stairs finding a Sabrina passing in the hallway, she looked pale. 

“Doctor, quick, it’s Tom, he’s sick. I can’t move him.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For literary references   
> -The quote is Pierre-Marc-Gaston  
> -The Russian is Dostoevsky, and the "extraordinary man" is a thesis in Crime and Punishment   
> -Paracelsus is known as the father of Toxicology


	3. Chapter 3

“He can’t keep any liquids down.” Sabrina passed back and forth, she looked as though the last few nights had been sleepless. “He’s been vomiting for hours, but then just passed out!” She spoke quickly, gesturing wildly. “What is wrong with him?” 

Reid knelt down, pulling up a hand, noting the wrinkled fingers and felt an erratic if fast pulse. “Anything else? Has he left the bar recently?” 

“He was complaining about being tired, but Tom always works too hard anyway. But he can’t be sick doctor, he’s always been so healthy. Just something he ate right?” Her voice wobbled. 

“In a sense, now Miss Cavendish, please you must concentrate. Has he left the bar? Gone to any other locations in the past few days?”

“I can’t, surely it doesn’t matter! He will live won’t he?” 

“I will try miss, now please tell me.” 

“He left with someone called Woodbead to investigate a house. He was always helping people, foolish man! Did he pick something up?” 

Reid got up, the man was giving loud dry breaths, Sabrina curled hands into fists at the noise. “Miss, I need you to pay attention.” He both loved and hated the ease of manipulating others, but in moments like this it was more useful than anything. “You must boil all water coming out the taps for several minutes. Go now and get a large pot boiling. We need to maintain his fluid levels. Do not drink any water from any tap. Now where is this Mr Woodbead?” 

She pointed towards the east before rushing downstairs. Reid gave a sad look to the man struggling on the bed before also leaving the room. He did end up finding Archer, or whatever was left of him. He sat in his own stench, in a back alley, corpse still warm. His eyes were clearly sunken in, skin an icy blue, hands clasping out at something or someone that was no longer there. 

-

It was horrifyingly easy to move a corpse to a mass grave, to have it wrapped in way the diseased skin would be contained. It was less simple to create an intravenous drip without any of the proper supplies. A syringe needle lay tied with a piece of old tubing, itself linked to a pot once almost discarded for its leaky holes. Sabrina sat, a mass of anxiety, watching the water levels. Scared to look away least he expire from lack of attention. Reid left her with the promise to return, the Pembroke would surely have a better system, and the resources to deal with the problem before it became a full blown epidemic. 

-

McCullum walked up a street, eyes open for any sign of disorder. Most respectable people were well in bed at this time of night. With his rounds of Whitechapel nearly over, he would always finish in the graveyard, finding it a hotspot at the best of times. Skals were almost a thing of the past now, most having fled or been dealt with. Reid had mentioned the source had been taking care of, without offering many further details. So it seemed extra suspicious to find a respectable looking man casual walking through, seemingly unbothered by the occasional goolish scream. 

“Hey you there, not a great time to be outside.” He waved at the man, motioning for him to leave the area. Normally the slightly aggressive tone and hint at weaponry would cause the normal gentleman to leave. It was perhaps a crude tactic, but better then having to later pull pieces of fancy suit from teeth.

The man turned, nodded as a response. As the commander moved closer to further push his point, the man vanished. Swearing, McCullum pulled out a loaded crossbow, though meeting a proper vampire alone was never a great idea. The bastard danced around, never becoming solid for more then a few seconds clearly taunting. Still, the bastard was fast, very fast. Shots could barely be called misses as they went right through trails of black mist. The creature’s amusement was seemingly interrupted by a gas grenade. He used the moment to pull out a sword. 

“Fucking leech.” He darted towards the monster, swerving aside to avoid a claw. 

The creature had already vanished, but reappeared behind. Prepared the monster snarled as a crossbow made contact with his shoulder. The responding leap backwards was too predictable as the sword managed to slash a stomach. The commander, blood boiling with adrenaline pushed his advantage.The shadow in front of him exploded, sending him back hard. Geoffrey hit a gravestone, breaking it but knocking the wind from his lungs. He rolled to get up, panting and gasping. Then felt the claw under his chin. 

“An impressive show from a mortal. Quite the incredible little explosion, quite similar to the ones rigged inside my temporary abode.” The man sounded horrifyingly calm, he moved down, meeting blue eyes with his red ones. 

“Fuck you.” McCullum spat, free hand feeling for the grip of his sword. Every breath caused aching pains up through his chest as his lungs desperately tried to refill themselves.

“Such a waste, you..” the man seemed ready to go on a monologue but it was cut short by a sword being shoved into his gut. The look of slight surprise passed his face as the human used the moment to kick hard pushing himself out of reach. 

McCullum jumped to his feet. This bastard was good, too good probably. Best chance was to run, bringing him down later with numbers. He pulled a second canister and threw it. This one exploded into flames upon contact with the ground. The vampire might be fast, but that would still hurt. He pulled back, ribs aching horribly. Then found himself unable to move, still kneeling on the ground. 

“Shit, shit shit!” Nothing was responded, like the body was frozen in place. 

“Clever little mortal.” The voice seemed to be coming from everywhere, the recent dust cloud caused by the explosion had obscured his vision. He tried to move back, finally his body responded only to hit something while moving backwards. It was too late to spin. He swung back with a sword, missing as fangs pierced skin. He paused, panic threatening to overcome any rational thought. This could very much be the end. Still, Jonathan always said that blood was momentarily quite distracting. Good, he let the man get a good taste before leaning backwards, crushing both of them. He rolled sideways, sword out, another explosion dropped on the ground. 

“You are a delicious mortal. I am sorry to have only just made your acquaintance.” McCullum wasn’t listening, he was moving, blood leaking. The bomb would give him enough of a head start to get behind something solid. He did not stop moving, the creature made an angry noise as gas erupted. It allowed him time to get out of the graveyard and jump through a nearby window. He rolled unceremoniously onto a carpeted floor, but the yell from upstairs confirmed it was inhabited. The vampire laughed before leaving, clearly more amused than damaged. Still McCullum gave it a while before leaving to find medical attention, calling out his apologies before limping out.

-

“Geoffrey!” 

He could have predicted this, showing up at the Pembroke just before dawn. Reid met him outside, he seemed to have been running back but dropped that when Geoffrey was within view. They managed to hobble up the stairs and into Jonathan’s office where he was currently being cleaned up. The doctor had only paused on the way up to alert a nurse to bring supplies to a pub of some sort.

“He was fucking fast.” He grunted as something was being poured on the wound. “Only just slipped out, he was an arrogant shit too. If I had two more, we would have taken him down. Ow, fuck careful with that.” 

He looked over, Reid had said very little after looking at the bite wound. The cause was immediately obvious, the man was shaking, his eyes dark and fangs long. “Jonathan.” He looked over, realizing that most of his weapons were nearby, but not close enough. He felt a hand going over the bruises blossoming over his ribs. 

“I want to kill him.” 

“You aren’t alone, fucking leech.” He looked back, the look hadn’t left the doctor’s face. “They broken?” 

“No, not broken, bruised.” His voice was short, a definite hint of anger. Not something deeper and uglier than anger.

“Alright then, I have to go warn the others. We got a new one wandering around.” McCullum moved to jump off the table but found an iron grip stopping him. 

“Stay here.” 

“Sun’s about to rise, I still have work to do.” The grip refused to let go.

“Please Geoffrey, stay here.” 

“The boys could be in danger Reid, I have to go. I’ll be fine.” 

“I can’t let you.” 

“Fucking what?” 

Jonathan pulled him very suddenly close, his body was hammering. “I’m going to do something very stupid and need you here.” 

“Stupid?” 

“I want him dead Geoffrey, I want his fucking head at my feet.” He breathed in the man’s smell, trying to convince himself that everything was fine. He couldn’t go running around London looking for some unnamed Ekon. Or worse, his gut told him who it was. “You’re mine, how dare anyone else.” He left the phrase remain unfinished. 

“Fine.” 

Jonathan used every fiber of restraint to not dig claws into the man. The fury still burned, it was unlike anything else, just as profound as the hungry but so much more destructive. It was the first time he knew he would truly enjoy killing someone. This man belonged to him, everything about him. How dare anyone else dare bite him. They would have to be punished, and this man re-claimed as his, forever and only. He let go to help the man fall into the small bed, pain blooming on his face. Reid took a chair and leaned against the wall, staring at the figure. He let a hand gently rest on the mortal’s shoulder, as the warmth of the morning drove him to sleep. His dreams were filled with blood, and a sadistic joy at seeing it flow so freely. 

-

Reid awoke on the chair, sore and alone. He felt a rush of multiple feelings, but forced them down. He had to be rational. McCullum had probably left to warn the others. He would be safe. Reid put a head in hands, he could find his mortal later. He would re-claim what was his. He would not lose anyone else so important. He gave a long shuddering breath, begging the nerves to quiet. 

Another problem still remained, one that had felt all consuming until Geoffrey had limped into view. It would now serve as a useful distraction. After all, it was a friday and Geoffrey always visited his mother on fridays. He was punctual, he would be there. The doctor could wait, or at least convince himself it was possible. Brushing himself off, Reid got up and walked down the hall. He didn’t bother knocking as he entered Dr Swansea’s office, eager to distract himself but only to find an extra person there. Maurevert sat, looking quite comfortable in a beautifully tailored suit. He turned as Jonathan entered, giving him quite the smile. 

“What are you doing here?” The anger dripped from his voice, he could feel hands forming talons.

“Now, now Jonathan, please calm down. I will not have any violence in my office, we can talk everything out like gentlemen.” Edgar had clearly noted the aggressive stance.

“Doctor Reid, how lovely to see you again.” Maurevert got up, the picture of casual, he seemed unperturbed by the look of pure violence on Reid’s face. 

“Did you? Did you hurt him?” Jonathan slammed the door behind himself, yelling loudly. He could feel the wall shudder from the impact, but he cared little. The roof could collapse for all he cared.

“Jonathan, what on earth are you talking about?” Edgar had moved to intercept, putting a hand on the doctor’s chest. “I am sure this is a large misunderstanding.” 

“I had noticed the scent around the hospital. What an incredible coincidence. Well, I am quite glad the mortal managed to escape. Quite the resourceful man, quick too. I was thoroughly impressed.” 

“I will kill you.” Jonathan managed to hiss, he disregarded the look of shock on Edgar’s face. 

“I quite apologize, I was unaware the mortal was spoken for. There were no signs, or I would have obviously backed off. The insult was not intentional.” 

“Insult? You almost broke his ribs! You drank his blood!” 

The man put his hands forwards, palms facing the furious doctor. “I can assure you the insult was not meant. I retain the right to defend myself against outward aggressors, and he was rather well armed. I had found my residence disturbed, with various traps set up.” His voice was still sickeningly calm. 

“You drank his blood!” 

“Am I to be blamed, doctor? The man smelt positively delicious, which was born out in taste. Still I did apologize for the insult to you.” The man rose, “Still, I believe you have more important topics to discuss with the administrator than simple matters of pride.” 

“What’s he talking about Jonathan?” Swansea removed his hands, still obviously nervous.

The doctor took a long steadying breath, “I found evidence of cholera at the Limehouse docks”

“Cholera?! Jonathan that is most serious! Have you found the source? How many have been affected?” 

“I am not yet sure of the source, I am also only aware of a few cases though it seems there could be many more.”

“Sounds rather serious. ” Maurevert moved aside, seemingly suddenly interested in his own fingers. 

“Very serious, an infection would be devastating of course. Still, cholera! I have only ever read about the affliction. You should bring one of the patients here, we could make quite the study! Image if we found the direct cause of the infection! I could write into the British Medical Journal to publish the results.” 

“We will need supplies, Edgar, and lots of them.” 

“Quite, yes of course. We can offer anything you may need though supplies remain quite low.” 

“Time seems to be another one you have a limited supply of. Mortal lives are so easily extinguished.”

“Thank you Edgar.” He moved to leave the office, deciding to turn again and look at the intruder. 

“Something wrong Jonathan?” Edgar seemed to be desperate for a smooth resolution.

“I believe the dear doctor is going to threaten me.” Maurevert moved to stand immediately in front of Jonathan. “I consider your words carefully before uttering them. You seem quite a promising Ekon and I would hate to have what could be a quite beautiful friendship ruined. More than that, young one, you may find me quite the opponent. You forget dear Doctor Reid, you know nothing about me, and I have already found a weakness in you.” 

“You wouldn’t dare.” 

“You have no idea Doctor, good day.” He nodded politely at both of them before leaving. 

Jonathan paused for a moment before leaving himself but pausing as Edgar spoke. “Priwen has long been a thorn to vampires. In hindsight, your sympathy towards McCullum may have been foolishly placed. He is going to get himself killed Jonathan, one day or another, he is just a mortal after all.” Reid didn’t reply, he was leaving, anger threatening to take over his system. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun medical history fact, IV (intravenous treatment) was developed around the 1830s while researching a cure for cholera.


	4. Chapter 4

“His breathing seems better now.” Sabrina looked worse than the day before, as though she had not left Tom’s side. She waved a hand over Tom’s face, revealing the bloody marks in her hands from her own fingernails. A form of angry protest against a foe for which there was no way to attack. 

“His fluids are still low, his pulse is not as strong as I would like. Still, he survived the night and seems a little less pale. A positive sign definitely, but we must continue to replenish his fluids. Have you kept the water barrel full? And you miss Cavendish, how are you feeling?” 

“Tired Doctor, but none of that matters now. He can’t get worse, I won’t let him.” 

“Keep the bottle filled with clean water, that is all we can do I’m afraid. His own body can fight off the disease with our help.” Jonathan got up gently, trying to keep his tone calm. “Have you heard about any others?” 

“Seymour complained about feeling ill, swearing all day but went quiet a little while ago. Probably went home to his mother. This won’t spread will it? I don’t think we could handle another epidemic.” 

“Thank you, I will go check on him. While I understand miss Cavendish, we have far more experience dealing with cholera. You must just drink clean water.” She nodded, lips thin. 

“Where are most around here to find that doctor? Even the air here is polluted, dirty, as though it also wanted to punish us.” 

“I know it might seen unfair, but now focus on helping Tom and keeping yourself safe. I will go check on Mr Fishburn, I will be back later tonight.” 

“Thank you doctor.”

-

It took several knocks for Stella to answer the door, she looked like death. “Doctor?” The voice was barely a whisper. She was paler than usual, eyes looking huge in a shrunken face. She moved aside for him to enter, making an odd whimpering noise. 

“I didn’t think anyone would come.” She hobbled, clearly struggling to remain upright. Reid followed her inside, noticing immediately the horrible smell that filled the house. “My boy has taken ill, he is wasting away. No one will help us. No one should help us.” 

“You need to sit down Mrs Fishburn, you are sick.” 

“My son Doctor.” She waved at the other room, her movements clearly causing her distress. 

He got up, moving into the next room finding Seymour on the bed. Jonathan was suddenly quite glad of his experiences in the trenches, as very little made him nauseous now. The man looked like he had lost a huge amount of weight very quickly, his skin had almost a blue tint. The room smelt as though a sewer had burst. 

“Mr Fishburn, it’s doctor Reid.” He moved next to the bed. “How long have you felt like this?” He rang a finger along his wrist, the pulse was barely discernible. 

“Dying.” His voice was dry, the mouth unable to produce saliva making the tongue seem swollen. He turned a head slightly to look at the doctor. The eyes were empty. 

“You won’t, I am going to set something up that will help.” Jonathan got up, moving into the kitchen and turning on the gas stove. They would need clean water. He went into the pantry looking for salt. 

“What’s wrong?” Stella managed to croak out. 

“He is losing fluids at an alarming rate, it is a symptom of a disease. You get it from drinking contaminated water.” 

“Everything is dirty here doctor.” 

He gave her a sad smile before helping her into the bedroom. “Rest now, I can help you.” 

The two patients were quiet as he set up an IV line into each arm, using a bizarre mixture of pots, two needles and some tubing from the other room. The cleaning had taken some time. 

“What’s wrong?” Seymour’s voice was still obscured by the swollen mouth. 

“It is known as cholera. You must rest now.” He sat down next to the man. “Listen, have you left this house in the last few days? Drank water from anywhere else?” 

“No.” 

“It must have gotten into the sewers somehow,” Jonathan thought out loud. “Has anyone new come to the neighbourhood?” 

“No.” 

Jonathan got up, feeling a little frustrated. Cholera didn’t simply show up for no reason. Some one had been the initial patient, likely recently arrived. He stopped pacing as he heard what was clearly Rufus’ footsteps enter the house. 

“What is that smell?” The youth gagged hard. 

“Rufus what are you doing here?” Reid moved in the kitchen, looking at the man dry heave. 

“Mrs Fishburn had been quiet, I was worried about her Sir. What’s happened?” He moved into the house, his question dying on his lips after seeing the two patients. “God Almighty, what has happened?” 

“It’s a disease, they need water. Those tubes are helping to give them water directly, faster then drinking it.” 

He rushed over to the woman’s side, “Is there anything I can do?” 

“I may need your help monitoring them. However, you must only drink boiled water and wash your hands very often. That should keep you safe.” 

“Anything sir.” He got up, looking curious for a moment before turning green. 

“Let’s make you a mask first.” He tore a bit of blanket off, handing it over. “Now Rufus, has anyone suspicious come here? I need to know everything.” 

“Suspicious?” His voice was muffled by the mask, he seemed to think for a few minutes. “Well sir, there was a lad who disappeared.” 

“Disappeared?” 

“He used to sell the paper, would come around. He was nice.” 

“When did he vanish?” 

“Few days back, he boasted he was meeting a pretty young lady, had some sort of sweetheart. Bragged to anyone that would listen. I thought he ran off with her.” 

“Who was she?” 

“No idea, he said she was french.” 

“His name?” 

“Ned, Ned Thompson. Not sure what she was called.” 

“Estelle.” The voice came out raspy from Seymour’s mouth. “He said Estelle.” 

“Where is she now?” 

“Sewers.” 

“How did they get there?” Rufus looked at the pair confused. 

“How indeed.” 

“Not important.” The man coughed out before moving his head away, as though to end the conversation. 

“I did see one other weird man.” Rufus let that comment stand for a while before talking again. “But it was tonight, so I wasn’t sure if you wanted to know sir.” 

“Who?” Reid was more focused on tying the IV down properly, to prevent it moving. 

“He didn’t give his name, asked me mine. Said he rode in on a white horse with a crown and bow. I thought him deep in the drink sir, asked if he had been drinking. He laughed sir, said no had no need for their mouth was like the finest wine, may it flow smoothly from my beloved gliding gently over lips and teeth.” 

Jonathan kept silent for several minutes, he spoke only to explain how the drip would work, how to prepare more solution and what to watch for. The man was given strict instructions to come to Pembroke the moment anything changed. Reid gave his farewells, he knew leaving at the moment was unhelpful, that this small outbreak could easily kill the neighbourhood. Deep down, he knew his place as physician was right here, however the deep screaming, bloody anger in his chest was going to burst and soon. He had tried for hours to stop the rage, but it was boiling over.

-

McCullum was finishing up his rounds for the evening, planning on heading to Jonathan’s for dinner, he could almost taste the wonderful food already. While this current well, association with the vampire had many potential pitfalls, the cuisine was a definite bright spot. He waved his goodbyes to his two companions before entering the richer West end neighbourhood. He felt a slight worry over his departure that morning, but in fairness, his boys needed to know there was a rogue and highly powerful bloodsucker running around. The doctor could understand that, after all he always put his work above everything. To be angry would be hypocritical. He turned the corner to a small empty block, it used to host many fancy restaurants but was now mostly empty. He took a look in at one of the shops, extravagant clothes for people with more coins than personality. He was slipping a sword away but stopped at a very recognisable sound, that of a vampire appearing. 

The man appeared sitting at one of the chairs outside a pretentious looking cafe. The air of arrogance was almost more recognizable than his features. All bloodsuckers ran around looking down at the world really. The leech did not move on the offensive, but instead put hands delicately in a lap. It took half a second to recognize the monster from the previous evenings mishap. A direct attack was probably inadvisable. 

“I had hopped for a conversation this evening.” The leech gestured at the empty seat opposite.

“Who the fuck are you?” He let the sword lie comfortably in hand, ready to pounce. His ribs still ached from their previous encounter. 

“I have many names, but I prefer Maurevert. Please sit.” He gestured again at the free chair. “Be quite calm, I have no appetite for violence on such a lovely evening.” 

“Fat fucking chance, you bloodsucking monster. I trust your word as much as that of a steaming shit.” He spat the phrase, still ready for sudden action. 

“A colourful lexicon is clearly a treasured quality of yours.I would ask you to introduce yourself, though I must admit to cheating when attempting to discover your identity. I had not hopped to meet the head of the guard of Priwen so early in my visit.” 

“If you know who the fuck I am, than you know what I think of bitches like you. Fucking spineless murderes and sadistic cunts all of you.” 

“Goodness, and I had hoped to offer an apology for my earlier conduct. I had not realised you were already spoken for.” The man laughed lightly, as though the commander was amusing him.

“Spoken for? What you arsholes have a ranking system for who gets to fight who? You think I give even the smallest shit? Get the fuck out of my city.” 

“Not for fighting my dear commander. Though I admit upon our fortuitous meeting, the thought of an established bond was a distinct possibility. It was unlikely that another had not already discovered you.” 

“What the fuck?” 

“You smell quite lovely, taste even better, if I might be so bold. So, I do apologize for my behavior, I hope our next encounter will be more pleasant.” 

“Go fuck yourself.” He slipped a hand over a grenade. 

“I do like mortals with fire in their veins, it makes everything so much more interesting. Still, wish your master a pleasant evening for me. I fear we parted on poor terms last time.” He vanished away, just as the explosion of gas filled the air. 

“What a shit.” The commander continued on his walk, feeling distinctly more irritated than last time. He made it another two streets before being quite surprised by the sudden appearance of Reid. The vampire had distinct red rings about his eyes, a disturbing mixture of panic and rage played across his face. 

-

“And who are you sir?” 

Seymour opened his eyes, working through the crusty build up to look at the visitor. A man sat near his bed, staring at him. Seymour’s mother’s dry snores came from nearby. “Who?” His voice came out dusty, dry. 

“Oh, my identity is hardly important right now. I am here to see you, consider it a last visit really.” 

“You’re a priest, for confession.” 

“If you’d like, though I am no priest nor can I absolve your sins. In fact, I am more interested in understanding them rather than cleansing them. You see, I saw what you did. You helped me out tremendously, without even realising it.” 

“How?” He tried to turn to get a better look. 

The man laughed pleasantly, giving a look around the room. “Well, I gave this world a present, a poison pill as it were. I rather expected that it would take some time to properly spread, it would diffuse over time. That was, until you helped out in a wonderful way. I am truly in your debt, in minor way. That said, I would happily do something for you.” 

“Help me.” 

“How dull you are. I had assumed you viewed existence from beyond the mortal coil, that you had gleaned a unique perspective. Why else would you take it away from others? Though now I see that death still frightens you. I am disappointed. ” 

“You know.” 

“Yes mortal, I know. While we will never be equal, I see the eyes of a monster. Monsters often find killing boring after a time, they get tired, apathetic in many ways. The blood flows into an abyss that will never be filled, but now allow me to stare back. You who believed themselves better than mortals. You may have assisted me, but do not think that protects you.” 

“Get away from me.” Seymour felt a mounting panic in his gut, this was not going to end well. 

The man simply got closer, “Look at me mortal, look into my eyes. You believed you could play favourites with life, that you were somehow above the mortal coil. No, you are not. Now listen to my words.” His voice changed, it became somehow commanding, impossible to not obey. “Good, now crush your skull against that wall. Smash your face until there is nothing left.” 

Rufus was rushing back, he hated to disappoint the doctor but poor Ms Fishburn was shaking horribly. A blanket would help her, and one that didn’t smell like that house. He smiled at the bucket, mop and quilt, surely this would help. He stopped outside, hearing voices before something smashing against a wall, repeatedly, in a dull even sequence. A horrible crunch followed it. 

“Ms Fishburn!” The load clattered against the floor as he rushed in. A horrible scream ripped through the street. The women lay weak and terrified. She was pointing at the mess on the main bed, blood and brain staining the wall. 

-

“I am fine Reid.” McCullum was pushing past the vampire, hoping to avoid yelling in the streets. Not that a good shout wasn’t therapeutic, but neighbours coming to check would cause unnecessary complications. Best to get somewhere quiet. 

“You are not!” The doctor reappeared blocking his path. 

The commander pushed past again, hitting a breaking point of sorts as he found himself pushed hard into an alleyway. A furious immortal holding his jacket. 

“Leave it Jonathan, I am neither a child or a fool. I am fine.” He pulled himself free, trying to hiss rather than shout. 

“You left, you left and ran around with a monster on the loose! And now? You can not lie, I can smell him, he was here. He could have killed you! He already tried once.” 

“I am aware of the risks, believe me. This is my job Reid.” 

“You should not have left!” 

“Others would have been in danger.” 

“You were in danger!” 

“I hate to be the voice of fucking reason oh immortal one, let this humble mortal beseech you to mind your own fucking business and let me do my job.” There was no laugh at that. Geoffrey rolled eyes and moved to leave before feeling his back smash hard into a wall. 

“You will not leave. I am not done talking.” Reid’s voice had changed, commanding, demanding. 

There was a long pause, the commander had gone quite still, almost limp. Reid loosened his grip on the collar, listening to a pounding heart calming down. He moved closer breathing in the man’s scent, letting their faces be inches apart. 

“You are no child, but there is a wide margin between being helpless and holding one's own against a powerful Ekon. I am simply looking out for your safety Geoffrey. I have lost everything else, I will let the darkness not take you too.” He moved closer, cupping the commander’s face in one hand, pulling him closer. “My own, you must understand. I do not wish to restrict your movements but you must take fewer risks. Your life is so fragile, my own fiery mortal.” He moved to embrace but found a hand pushing him back. 

“Never, ever fucking use your powers like that.” The man pushed hard, catching the vampire by surprise causing a slight stumble. “Restrict my movements? Fuck you. Yes immortal, I will eventually die, but that will due to my actions. How fucking dare you. You think you’re the only one in this world that lost anything? Go cry in your fancy house, go complain to those throngs of friends and adoring fans, go bitch to those fancy journals that lick your fucking feet.” He spat hard on the ground, moving to leave the alley. A hand grabbed onto an arm, the grip iron. 

“I did not mean that, you are deliberately misinterpreting my words.” 

“Let go now.” 

“Geoffrey please listen to me, this is not a foe you can handle.” 

“I fucking know that!” He turned, ignoring the earlier hunch to avoid shouting. “You think I don’t know?” 

“I will not lose you!” Reid matched volume, feeling the energy leak out of his bones. “Please, please. I can’t save everyone, this world is constantly burning but I just want to save you.” The last sentence came out a whimper. 

The commander sighed, “I don’t want to fight.” He sat down on the alley floor feeling suddenly exhausted. “You have to accept that I’m not going to let him destroy people without a fight.” 

Reid dropped down beside him, dropped a head onto the commander’s shoulder. “I do understand, I do. I am so sick of death. I am sick of burying people, am sick of corpses. I want to crawl under the covers with you, ignore everything. At the same time, I can’t.” 

“What happened Reid? What brought this about?” 

“I found cholera in the Limehouse docks. Just as one epidemic drops down, another pops up. I feel like I am drowning, unable to comprehend. As though the world was working against me.” 

“Who the fuck brought that in? The city has been on lockdown.” 

“I have no idea,” Reid crawled closer, nearly sitting in the other’s lap, both leaning against the alley wall. “A french woman perhaps, but she vanished along with a local boy. Only contact is the boy’s father, but he died days ago.” 

“That leech involved?” 

“I think so, but it is simply a theory at the moment.” 

Reid let himself breathe in the comforting scent, “I hate that he bite you. I hate it more than I should. It’s this blinding, consuming anger.” 

“I don’t belong to you Reid.” 

“I know.” 

“And Jon, I do care.” He felt the doctor curl up closer, molding into a kiss. “I am not about to throw my life away without a fight.” 

Reid pulled him back into a kiss, desperate and raw. He wanted to feel warm again. “Calling me Jon now?” 

“Problem?” 

“No, I like it.” He rolled slightly, straddling the other. “I want, I want to feel warm.” 

“Now?” 

Reid was already pulling away a scarf, moving to open the man’s shirt. “Please.” 

-

Doctor Ackroyd closed the door behind him, looking around for eavesdroppers, he looked nervous. His usual pompous air polluted by nervous fidgeting. 

“Mr Chadana, I am glad you came to meet me.” 

“Of course doctor.” The man spoke softly, also checking the nearby window. “Nurse Hawkins mentioned you too had suspicions.” 

“It is probably not important, but those corpses.” He went silent, clearly still nervous. 

“He was drained of blood, and the bite marks.” 

The doctor passed back and forth, “He was admitted with a minor infection, should have easily recovered. Yet he was moved to a different room and suddenly died. It makes no sense.” 

“I saw the body too, Doctor.” 

“Hawkins said that no one entered that room. Perhaps some intruder broke in, some monster.” 

“Ah, but that is not true doctor. We both know that only one person was looking after that room. Have you spoken to Dr Swansea yet?” 

“No. Not yet.” 

“Perhaps you should avoid that, this is not the first corpse I have seen killed this way.” 

“I know, perhaps there is some outside source we should speak with.” 

“You have met the patient Thelma Howcroft?” 

“Yes, though she has not hurt anyone.” 

“No, but she was complaining about a group of militants looking into her. Perhaps they might know something?” 

They both stopped as footsteps echoed outside. 

“I will check, thank you Mr Chadana.” 

-

“Geoffrey?” Reid rolled onto his side, sheets falling lower down threatening to expose nudity. He ran a hand down the bare back, skin still radiating warmth. The room smelt wonderfully of sex. The shelter was still filthy yet it felt somehow perfect. Outside the world the rich slept on. 

“Yes Jon?” The man’s voice was obscured by a pillow, his body shivering as a hand continued to touch it. 

“Thank you.” He pulled the man’s naked body closer, adoring how it responded with pleasure to being close. He bent down to kiss the bite mark, now surrounded by bruising from his earlier attentions. “That was perfect.” He moved the man to properly spoon him, groaning in satisfaction at the warmth. 

“Fucking glad we moved to a room.” He growled, more amused than irritated. “What is this place anyway?” 

“A shelter for vampires, feels a bit treasonous to bring you here.” He moved kisses down the neck, hands running along a bare chest. 

“You were always a shite vampire anyway.” He felt heart rate increase as hands moved lower. 

“That is rather rude.” Reid did not move, his body starting to ache. Memories of earlier satisfaction were still fresh in his mind. 

The commander laughed lightly, running a hand on the vampire’s arm which lay across him. “Politeness was never a quality of mine.” He moved closer into the enveloping immortal body. “So Jon, in your medical opinion, did sex help?” 

He felt the immortal’s body shake with a silent laugh. “I ought to write up a paper on the subject, though I hypothesis it was partially the act and partially the partner. I doubt anyone else could satisfy like you.” 

“A compliment Jon? How gentlemanly of you.” 

“You jest, but I am being serious. You are special to me.” 

“‘As an apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among young men. With great delight I sat in his shadow and his fruit was sweet to my taste.’” The commander laughed, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Nice try Jon, but you’re no poet.” 

“What’s that from?” Reid smiled, kissing the man’s neck, one hand gently resting on a hip. 

“Bible, the song of Solomon. I grew up Catholic after all.” 

“Still Catholic?” 

“I would make a shite christian Jon. I am currently lying in horrible sin, pretty sure letting a male immortal fuck me isn’t allowed.” 

“What about taking the immortal instead?” Reid heard the slight gasp as his hands explored downwards, gently stroking a hardening cock. 

“Fuck Jon, not satisfied yet?” 

The vampire leaned up to whisper gently, “Never, I will always want you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how long it is taking to write and edit this!


	5. Chapter 5

“Nah boss, just some fancy posh prick talking about his boss being a leech, seems the typical snake type to back stab a man to get ahead but never know.” The bruiser stood in the open door, he stunk of gasoline and booze. Derision dripped from his voice towards the said visitor.

“Never turn down a lead, let him in.” McCullum motioned that the bruiser leave and bring in the posh guest. He leaned back in his chair, still sharpening a blade, partly for maintenance of the weapon and partly for added intimidation of their guest. 

A man in a well cared for suit entered, he had a serious expression and huge bags under his eyes. He gave the room a critical inspection and his gaze showed the less than glowing review. The man smelt oddly like antiseptic, like Jonathan after a long shift. McCullum motioned for the rickety chair in front of his desk, still cleaning the sword. 

“This was not what I expected.” 

“Glad to disappoint, now you have 2 minutes to explain why you were out bothering my boys or I’ll have you wake out covered in your own shit, or not wake up at all.” 

The man leaned back, a little affronted. “I am a well respected physician sir! Now I was informed your little mercenary group helped deal with problems of a well, unnatural kind.” 

“So what did your boss do? Not promote you? Maybe you think you’d be better than him but are too much of a fucking coward to do anything so go running to others. We have seen your type doctor.” This was irritatingly true, in times of famine and war people thought it easy to make their enemies simply vanish but few had the guts. He laid down the sword across the desk, it shone beautifully.

The doctor corrected his posture to sit even straighter. “I am not used to slander so readily said to my face. Still, I am the one asking for your assistance I suppose. No, this is not about my career, stagnant as it is. I wish to report a mysterious series of events that are occurring at the Pembroke hospital.” 

McCullum got up slowly, hoping to appear as though changing positions for comfort reasons. He pushed the door to his office closed, moving behind the man. A knife moved silently from a pocket to his hand. “Which particular worker do you suspect of immortal or supernatural activity?” He hoped the voice was calm, even though the knife sat ready. 

“You know the hospital?” The doctor was clearly a little worried by having the commander behind him. 

“Yes, so which particular co-worker?” He let the knife sit ready in his hand, from here the informant wouldn’t have time to scream. It would just take a name. 

“Our hospital administrator, a Dr Edgar Swansea. I am unsure of the correct terminology for his current condition but it is unlike anything I believed possible.” 

McCullum let the knife slip back into a pocket and moved to be closer to the desk. This would explain why Jonathan had been reticent to mention Swansea in months. The bastard had finally gotten what he had clearly always salivated over. 

“Any evidence?” 

“A great deal, documented by both myself and several others. The vast majority is the bodies. I believe he must be dealt with, and immediately.” 

-

“Doctor Reid, I’d say pleasant night but that’s a lie.” 

“Still the optimist, I see Milton. I have a request for you, there are several supply crates that need transport to the Limehouse Docks, to a pub in that location. We are setting up a temporary clinic in the area.” 

“Did the boss say that was okay?” 

Reid kept his expression neutral but pleasant. “I would hate to bother Dr Swansea with such trite details. He is aware of the problem and informed me I had full support.” 

“I don’t want to lose this job doctor.” 

Reid turned as Pippa joined them. “Something wrong?” 

“Where is the boss right now? Want to check something.” Milton turned to her. 

Pippa’s face immediately went cloudy. “I am sure he wouldn’t object to anything Dr Reid is doing. He is busy, off doing his private experiments.” 

At her phrasing, Milton’s expression also moved to mirror hers. Something had clearly transpired between the two. 

“Right them, better start loading this up.” Milton moved the boxes while Pippa slipped off, only to be stopped by Reid. 

“What’s going on?” He commanded, “What are these personal experiments?” 

Her face calmed, “The administrator has his own set of personal experiments on select patients but many of the staff have noticed a trend in the survival prospects of these patients. Many have noticed strange wounds, and blood loss.” 

“Have you seen the corpses?” 

“Only a few, most are quickly hidden but the staff know.” 

Reid nodded the end of the conversation, moving back to help load the ambulance. As the last crate was put in, Dr Ackroyd walked past them, clearly wearing civilian clothing. The man looked nervous, and exhausted. 

“A difficult night?” 

He jumped as Reid left the back of the ambulance. “I did not see you Reid. I had not realized you had a shift this evening.” 

“Moving supplies to the docks, I will not be around for long.” He jumped down to the ground as the car started to drive away. 

“What is occurring at the docks?” 

“A small cholera outbreak, Edgar told me to take whatever supplies I required. I assumed you would have all been informed.” 

The man’s mouth went thin, “We had not. Still, Swansea seems particularly busy these days. Perhaps you ought to stay in the district to help out. I can take over your shifts here.” 

Reid answered with thanks at the unexpected act. He waved his goodbyes to Milton promising to cross paths shortly. Upon moving up to his office he noted Thelma was standing outside.

“Miss Howcroft? May I assist you?” 

“There’s a monster here doctor. A creature of the night, but instead of viewing their position with the grandeur and Gothic composure expected they toss it aside. A fool who reveals the existence of vampires threatens all of my species, doctor. You have shown yourself an ally of my species in the past, so I ask now that you act in helping to prevent the unmasking of my people.” She waved her arms around, speaking in a soft but dramatic whisper. “Already there are forces at work, mysterious and ancient.” 

“A monster? Who has bothered you Miss?” He motioned to enter his office, but she shook her head. 

“I cannot yet say, but the time will soon come when all secrets will be revealed. Already the doctor is busy watching the patient obsessed with power, ready to pass down his knowledge of the science to the hunter. After all, why eat flies when a spider is worth more? But such hunger will be the downfall of the patient, and his master will only watch in disappointment.” 

“Who is the doctor Miss Howcroft?” 

She smiled secretively, “The one who knows the secret of blood Reid, rich wonderful blood.” She laughed and ran away, skipping a little, leaving a confused doctor standing by his door.

-

“What happened Rufus?” 

The youth looked emotionally and physically exhausted. He sunk down into a chair at the pub, perhaps the first time he had relaxed in days. He stunk of a sewer with dried blood under his nails. He still smelt like Ms Seymour’s cheap perfume from helping to move her here. He stared down at his own feet. 

“He just kept smashing his own head into the wall.” The young man spoke with a dead tone, he refused to meet the doctor’s gaze. “I never much liked him, but never wanted this. Nothing like this.” 

Reid sat in front, trying to force eye contact. “I understand this must be a difficult time, but I must know what happened.” 

“I just heard voices, then a horrible smashing noise. But he was alone when I found him, what was left of him. Didn’t know people had that much blood in them.” 

“Did anyone else come by that day?” 

“No sir, except.” He finally looked up, eyes red. “A gentleman came by earlier, asked if I needed help moving cloth inside the house. Remembered him from visiting a few days ago. Seemed nice, spoke to me like a person if a bit loopy. Course I let him help, then he left. Why doctor, why did he do himself in like that? Not a sound either, not even a scream. Like a demon took him over.” 

“You did everything you could Rufus, Mrs Seymour is alive due to your attention. Rest now.” 

“Can’t, all I see is his dead eyes staring at his own brains. Mr Hampton says God looks after all of us, but why would he allow something like that. Poor Mrs Seymour just kept screaming. And the smell doctor.” 

“I understand Rufus, but you must try to rest now. Sickness preys on the tired.” 

The man just nodded, his managing a dry sob instead of an answer. Reid rose to see Sabrina behind the bar cutting vegetables. Her blade moved with murderous intent, the board shook with every strike. “Like any of us can rest.” She hissed, staring at the butchering of a potato. 

“Miss Cavendish.” She quickly interrupted, “I know, you are going to tell me that anger won’t accomplish anything. You’ll say something kind, but it isn’t helping. Tom is still dying. Each breath sounds like a struggle. His lips are so dry they are bleeding and I can’t do anything! I clean and I wait and nothing helps. How can you possibly understand what it’s like? Tell us to calm down will you, go ahead, try!” She ended in a near scream, tear threatening to run down her face. “It’s not fair.” She whimpered, more to herself than anyone in the room. 

“Tom is improving, the process is simply slow.” 

“I get that.” She smashed the knife down, violently pulling the next ingredient out. 

Reid sighed, then stopped. He looked out to see Geoffrey moving quickly towards him, running too. His heart rate was elevated. 

“I will return in a moment.” He nodded to the pair and slipped out. 

“Jon, I’ve been looking for you.” Geoffrey grabbed onto an arm to pull him away from the pub.

“What is it?” Jonathan motioned to move to an alley to avoid being overheard, or perhaps being seen. 

“It’s about Swansea.” 

-

Edgar had moved back into his office, pleased with today’s results. A body that could heal from any injury made research into all diseases so much simpler. A simple meal cured all ills on his part after all, and what was science if not a long series of personal sacrifices. Any other researcher would do anything for this type of opportunity. A few mortals were easily worth the advancements that were hiding within his new blood. Something Reid was either too cowardly or too unimaginative to comprehend. He was finishing a report when the door opened. Slightly irritated about the lack of a knock he noticed a patient standing in the doorway. 

“I know what you are.” The woman threw her raven hair aside in a dramatic sense, raising a hand to point. 

“A doctor, now you ought to return back to the wards downstairs.” He sighed, moving up to escort her. 

“Night walker, blood drinker, immortal, we have many names after all. Many find their gaze tinted by the life force of their victims. I know what it is to belong to this world yet live beyond it. However you, you disgrace the name of our people.” Her voice was getting louder. 

“Now now, it is time for you to return downstairs. Enough of this foolish talk.” 

“Coward!” She turned and ran out of the room, at a full sprint.

Shocked, Edgar gave chase. His speed was hampered by knowing that any bystander could notice the use of powers. She ran upstairs, going full tilt. He hurried after, this lady was becoming problematic and quickly. She kept giggling, screaming about vampires. While clearly ill, he knew that unwanted attention would be problematic. Still she was moving to an area where she was alone. This problem could soon be solved. The air became thick with the scent of antiseptics overwhelming most other scents. He could hear the elevator moving her up to his private room, a perfect place to have an accident occur. 

He smashed into the room but found it empty. Moving deeper inside, it was clear she had jumped out the window. Yet the window was closed behind with a large piece of wood covering it. In fact two heartbeats could be seen right outside, that of the female patient and Milton. They seem to be balanced on something. One was leaning against the window, actively boarding it up.

“Evening Edgar.” The elevator opened behind him showing two figures. 

“What is going on?” 

Ackroyd watched the heavily armed man walk in, opening the doors with confidence. “You’re trapped leech.” He felt the air go thick, and not simply with the cleaning supplies the hunter had suggested to cover the floor in. The administrator retreated, shock, anger and worry on his face. Ackroyd refused to meet the man’s eyes, the red circled becoming obvious now. He instead closed and locked the elevator door but refused to push any button. He had promised himself to watch, to understand. 

“Let’s not be foolish now, this is a poor idea for all of us involved. This must be a terrible misunderstanding.” Edgar moved back, putting weight on his back foot, blood swirling around his right hand.

“Don’t look that fucking way to me.” 

A missile made of blood exploded nearby, an easy doge. The commander pulled out a sword, ready. This would be simple. 

-

Jonathan sat waiting in Geoffrey’s apartment, the air thick with anxiety. Outside the sun had already broken the horizon making leaving to search quite impossible. All that was left was to wait. He hated being like this, feeling both helpless and anxious. Finally the familiar scent and heartbeat was climbing the stairs, along with the horrifying and wonderful smell of fresh blood. 

Geoffrey opened a door, exhausted. He was slightly unprepared to be pulled quickly inside and dumped on a couch, coat being pulled away. 

“Where’s the wound?” 

He pulled slightly free, removing his own scarf and dropping it next to the coat. A slightly gash ran down his arm, evidence of the advantage of heightened relaxes. “Barely grazed me.” He tried to sound smug, but it only came out tired.

“Still, it is important to clean wounds.” Reid pulled up a sleeve, running a finger over the bloody patch. It was from a claw, not serious but still. Silence filled the room as he pulled out a nearby bag of supplies. “Can I?” 

A nod, and Reid leaned down, licking the area clean. It took willpower to rise back up and cover the area with alcohol to clean the wound. 

“You angry?” Geoffrey watched him work, relaxing into the sofa. Muscles hurt more than the claw wound. 

Jonathan stopped cleaning, he kept his silence as applying a bandage. Gaze focused on his work, feeling a pulse running through the skin under his hands. He could feel the life running under his fingers, it felt so fragile. 

“Jon, are you angry?” 

“Yes and no.” He finished up, moving over to sit curled up next to the other. “I should have done it.” 

A hand ran through Jonathan’s hair, the other pulling him closer. He let his head rest on a shoulder, comforted by a familiar smell, the gentle beating of a heart, the warmth of a living creature. 

“You don’t mean that.” A low voice whispered gently. “It was best this way.” 

“I made him, I let him become that. I could have stopped him anytime but didn’t. He was my progeny, and like all of them, he became a monster then died. I am just curious if that is my fate, that everything I touch becomes poisonous.” 

“He was always this way Jon, he didn’t sudden become this way. We both know the true price he put on human life, or his weird fetish about vampires. Your well, decision, did not cause him to experiment on people. That was occurring long before Jon.” 

“I should have finished him.” Jonathan moved closer, slipping a hand inside the man’s collar enjoying the warmth on his hand. “He was dangerous, could have hurt you.” 

A low laugh rocked him, “Hardly Jon, the monster was a coward.” 

“I should have still done it. Some sort of poetic justice. He saved me, when I was at my lowest. Offered me shelter, protection, friendship.” 

“You could have let my boys finish him off the first time.” 

“No, he was my friend. I owed him.” 

“Did you, or did you want to simply save him? Perhaps prove that the famous Reid can save anyone.” 

“That is unfair. Plus I was unable to help him, or my sister.” 

“Maybe.” Jonathan looked up, a hand cupping his face. “You’re a good fucking doctor Jon, but you can’t alter the universe. Plus you can’t save someone in the biblical sense Jon. Some are simply lost.” 

“Did he die alone? Was anyone else there?” 

“Ya, the staff moved the body away. Think the story was it was a sudden heart attack, from being overworked while trying to save everyone. They’ll bury the body and the truth I suspect. Give him a long favourable memorial.” 

“The morgue?” 

“His torture room will have a sudden fire, faulty electrical work.” He let the man curled back into him, running a hand down the back. 

“You are not pleased with that.” 

“Not really, I hate that fucking monster can pull whatever shit they want and people will purposefully blind themselves.” His voice was oddly calm, more tired than angry. 

“They just want a peaceful life I suppose.” Jonathan rolled up, tracing the face in front of him. Their faces were close now, he could feel warmth breath on his cold skin. The only form of warmth he had anymore.“Why can’t I feel sad Geoffrey.” 

“Fuck if I know.” He rested a hand on the man’s hip, letting the doctor straddle him. 

“I saw a wall today decorated with a man’s brain. He simply kept smashing until his head shattered and my only thought was to consider how much force is required to break a skull. It is like something is broken inside.” 

“Not broken Jon, full.” 

“Let it not be yet, I still have an epidemic to prevent. There is still so much to accomplish, and quickly.”He leaned in, gently embracing his partner. Jonathan wanted to forget, to dissolve, to melt into warmth and comfort. “I need to find the original patient in the sewers, there must be a diseased body polluting the area.” 

Geoffrey pulled the doctor closer, kissing the pale neck. “Let me help you.” 

“Is that a request or a demand?” 

“Both.” 

“I can not lose you.” Jonathan breathed into his face, lowering back down for another kiss. 

“I am who I am. I refuse to lose that either.” 

“I could prevent it.” 

“What do you mean by.” Geoffrey was cut off by another kiss. 

“You could drink from me.” Jonathan moved to kiss down a neck, he felt the man stiffen. 

“Don’t.” 

“It was a simple suggestion.” Jonathan moved back up for another kiss but found the response less enthusiastic. 

“Promise me Jon, I’m not fucking kidding.” 

“I will not, but that is not a promise.” Jonathan let his body relax forward, head resting on a chest. “Understand that.” 

The two lay in silence for a few moments, Jonathan enjoying the feeling of lying here, just comfortable. He decided that pressing the issue wasn’t necessary at the moment. It was broken by the commander shifting. 

“I’m going to go fall into bed.” He got up, lifting the doctor long with him. “You need to sleep, night walker.” 

-

Thelma waited until they left, she danced around the room listening and waiting. She watched her mortal enemy leave, his arm bloody. She waited while the other doctors and nurses finished up the paperwork and left before entering the basement of the morgue. The air still stunk of burnt paper. 

The room was dark, the first light of dawn coming through the curtains. She pulled them shut, angry at the light before moving into the room. The metal table lay still, a perfect white sheet covering the contents. It almost looked like a sleeping patient. She danced forward, curious, fascinated. Turning to eye the door, no one was around. Upon glancing back she noticed a well dressed man standing by the corpse. He gave an inviting smile, easily revealing his fangs. 

“You are also a creature of the night!” She approached cautiously. “Another monster blessed to be above the current of time, but cursed with a never quenchable hunger.” 

“A fellow sister then, perhaps more in spirit than flesh though. Are you here to mourn a fallen brother?” 

“Mourn? Never, he failed to act appropriately, he became a slave to his baser needs, little more than a pest. Though a pest that could cause us all to be revealed.” 

The vampire laughed softly, but moved the blanket down to reveal the contorted expression. The death was painful, the man did not go quietly. “Did you see him fall sister?” 

“I only heard, he begged for his own existence like a mere mortal would.” 

“Sad, he had much potential as an immortal. Though perhaps he viewed our world more through the lens of desperate desire. He was impulsive, got greedy. That is the danger of our species sister, we must always hold ourselves back. A quite brilliant mortal once said that the qualifier of humanity was restraint. I like to adopt that idea for immortals too, well for some moments anyway. If not,” He waved at the expression, “The horrors.”

Thelma gave him a confused expression but quickly moved on. “You are here to say goodbye?” 

He put the blanket back, recovering the face of the fallen vampire. “In a sense yes, I shall miss observing him. He was helpful in a particular plan of mine. His assistance will be missed. Though I am quite rude my dear sister, what is your name?” 

“You may call me Thelma fellow vampire.” 

“It is a pleasure to meet you Thelma. May the night continue to give you rich rewards. Though, my dear, I would ask a favour of you.” 

“A favor?” 

“Yes, lady of darkness, are you able to leave this place?” 

“I can leave whenever, mortal walls would never hold me.” 

“Of course, I have a gift for a Sean Hampton.” He smiled so sweetly as he pulled out a small package. “I can offer you a rich reward my dear, the most wonderful blood. Red, rich and freeing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit more of a dark chapter, apologies, but we are in the final stretch! Thank you all for your patience! For the curious, the main two book references are of course Dracula and Heart of Darkness.


	6. Chapter 6

The sewer smelt terrible and not for the first time Reid was irritated by his heightened senses. At moments like this, they acted as a nuisance. The only true benefits was sight even in low lightning, though the torch behind him negated the effects. 

“Fuck this place smells like shit.” 

“Would make sense in this environment. We ought to keep moving.” 

A snort followed his joke, torch light making the shadows seem erie on the ground. The air itself was damp, moldy. Reid regretted not enforcing a mask on the other, any number of pathogens could fill this place. 

“Smell blood yet?” 

Reid shook his head, scanning the area. “The scent will have dulled over time.” 

The commander moved left, seeming to inspect the walls. These walls were old, most were crumbling, mold ridden or covered in drawings. Perhaps they were symbols to a group long ago. 

“These are claw marks, leech came through here. No mold in the marks either, so recent.” The commander ran his gloved hand along indents in the wall, they matched perfectly with a human hand. 

“We are going the right way then.” Reid pushed on ahead. 

“How do you think the french fuck and the disease are related?” The man coughed, though a note of curiosity in his voice. 

“They appeared at the same time. I believe he brought a poor french girl here who was ill, and she lured a young man into the sewers. They were both then killed, and the diseased corpses corrupted the water. The boy’s father was definitely killed by the Maurevert, as he lay starving in Sean Hampton’s shelter. I think the killing of the lad was an accident though, done by a very different type of monster. One whose brains now cover the insides of his own house.” 

“Covering up tracks?” 

“Perhaps, though that would imply he was trying to hide them initially. He kept giving me symbols, a white horse and a rider with a crown.” 

“Pestilence.” 

Reid stopped, water gently sloshing around his borrowed boots. “Pardon?” 

“In the four horseman of the apocalypse, Plague is seen riding a pale horse.”

“Fascinating, so it was never really hidden.” 

“More like killing all those people would only draw suspicion.” The commander moved past, “Strange how he did nothing to help Swansea.” 

Reid swallowed hard, “This may be a trap Geoffrey.” 

The man laughed, it echoed off the walls. “Not about to be scared off now, come on immortal.” 

They moved in silence, the splashing noise of water amplified by the lack of conversation. It seemed as though the tunnel was endless before Reid stopped, motioning to look down. Blood specks covered a wall, browned with time. The passage opened up, and Reid ran across the room. He flipped a body over, a young man. 

“Several stab wounds on the back, short knife. This is human work.” McCullum had dropped beside him, running a hand along the dead man’s back. “None pierced the lungs or heart, he bled to death.” Reid began looking at the hands. “See? He must have tried to crawl out, dirt caked under his nails and wounds to his palms. This was a prolonged death.” 

The commander had walked over to the opposite side of the room, inspecting the wall. He seemed interested in the numerous scratch marks, signs of claws. 

“He must have crawled from the other room, this looks like one of our victims. The girl must be around here.” Reid moved along. She was lying face down, a head wound. “This would have been instant.” Her clothes were filthy, cheap too. She must have lead a poor life.

“Jon, this wall smells like perfume.” 

He walked over, “Yes, expensive perfume too. Someone stood here, for some period of time too.” 

“The lad died crawling in this direction, this from the killer?” 

“He was a poor man from the docks, he probably took the lad for dead and left. See how there is a pool of blood over there? The man lay for sometime before trying to crawl away. However someone else was here. Someone who had time to draw marks in the walls with their claws.” 

Reid got closer and looked as the commander pulled out two body bags. “Don’t touch them with bare hands!” He was about to assist then stopped. A perfect horse and horseman had been carved into the brick near the scent of perfume. 

“Jon, I’m not carrying both!” Reid turned around, gut churning. Had the Ekon stood and watched the man die? Why leave his mark? 

“It will be faster to continue to the other side of the docks at this point, should they be burned?” 

“Yes, as quickly as possible.” 

-

“This is quickly escalating out of control! I was promised that you acted discreetly, carefully and with great success. The current state of affairs would hint to anything but that.” Lord Redgrave paced in his office, clearly furious. The object of his ire sat comfortably and composed nearby, seemingly more interested in a ring than the lord or the pile of paper on his desk. “You are not even paying attention to me. You act like a spoiled newborn! There are things happening that are more important than your own amusement.” 

“There is little in this extended existence more important than amusement. For what are we if not trapped in time, our senses dulled and flaying for anything to stimulate us. I have often wondered if that is the cause of the crave for blood, sipping at a fountain of mortality that has been denied to us.” The man still played with a ring, as though investigating it for some imperfection. 

“Enough of your philosophical ramblings, you were asked here to perform a task. You were expected to clear out the useless, filthy rabble from the docks. Our partners in business have great plans for the location and needs it emptied. Society must continue to grow, to expand, to profit.I would have thought the task was a simple one, assassin.” 

“Yes, great plans indeed. I am always confounded by your desire for material things, for surely they will all eventually turn to dust.” 

“You may wax metaphorically once your task is completed, Maurevert. The introduction of cholera was a brilliant idea, but you have failed to follow through. The death of a promising Ekon does nothing to endear me to you, when I think you might have prevented it. You were warned in advance about Dr Reid, yet have done nothing to neutralise this threat.” 

The man closed a man around the ring and finally looked up, meeting red tinted eyes with his own. “I grew bored with your plot, it stank of mortal greed. The one thing I hate most in an Ekon is the pervasive stench of mortal desires, the lack of proper perspective. Swansea was a careless megalomaniac who cared more about his own personal temporary glory. Even Icarrus learned his lesson about pride. You too have begun to bore me. Why care about shipping lanes, industry, the accumulation of wealth? You care more for a warehouse that will crumble within a generation than anything else.” 

“It is about power, you well know that.” 

“Do you know what this ring is?” 

The lord sat down, giving a tired sigh. “I have no idea.” 

“Payment for a job done many centuries ago. It reminds me that ‘It is not titles that honor men but men that honor titles.’ You sit with a mortal title within a circle of power that crumbles due to the intrusion of a single peer. That is not power, but the appearance of it.” 

“Then what is, if you are so very clever?” 

“Mine, to change the souls of immortals.” 

The man laughed, more from mirth than humor. “Change my soul?” 

“Such would be a foolish endeavor. You will die alone, upon a pile of ashes wearing a crown of fire. Your last thought will be how you are nothing, were nothing and will fade into a void, with no one to remember your name.” 

“Is that a threat?” 

“No, a prediction. Now excuse me, I have a point to make with another Ekon.” He faded into the night. 

“Yes run you coward! Never grace this building again!” 

-

Reid stopped, he could hear the heart pounding with exertion behind him and wanted to encourage a break. The smell of decomposing corpses along with sewer helped cover the slight scent of sweat. 

“We are not stopping Jon.” The sentiment was slightly obscured by his heavy panting. The thick air was only making the physical exertion of carrying corpses much worse on the commander. “Every second I spend in this shithole is agony.” 

“You are clearly exhausted, give it just a moment.” 

“Don’t use your doctor voice with me, it's not much farther now. Don’t be all fucking smug because in this one area you can go longer than me.” He snorted at his joke, not pausing as he moved through the sewer. 

“My strength and endurance are naturally better, it is nothing to be ashamed of.” He followed behind, “along with eyesight.” He added as the commander almost tripped. 

“Yet how quickly I can get you to start begging Jon.” 

“This is neither the time nor the place to bring up such matters.” 

“Course, I wouldn’t dare sully the reputation of the illustrious doctor Jonathan Emmett Reid.” He laughed a little. 

They mostly moved in silence after that, a much slower pace than their initial one. They had moved far enough to find the bodies that it made much more sense to follow the sewers to the other direction, coming out near Sean’s shelter. 

“Guess we should mark them as off the menu.” 

Reid had moved to lead again, his vision far better than the commander, just in case anyone else was hidden down here. “I will assume that is a joke, you well know that Sean is better.” 

The man gave a noncommittal sound, but his pace quickened as they reached the end. He was clearly eager to leave this place. Reid intended to lead them around to Sewer Skal hideout, thinking it better to let that location be a secret then a very familiar scent began to fill the area. 

“Blood.” 

“Close?” 

Jonathan simply nodded, moving forward more cautiously. The scent was coming from the Skal den, and it was fresh. Very much so, and the blood of a mortal. He swallowed hard and motioned for the other man to follow, and stay close. He heard the familiar sound of Geoffrey getting his weapons ready. They moved in total silence, letting the corpses lay on the path. It would be easier to move without them. 

Jonathan moved in first, materialising in the middle of a room. There sat a table with three chairs, clearly set up. The table even had a tablecloth, well sort of. Reid recognised the parts as taken from the Ascalon club. The chairs seemed from the den itself, which was empty. Three glasses were set up, with a single bottle of wine. No, not wine, blood. 

“This feels like a trap.” Geoffrey took a deep breath, steadying his crossbow. 

“Hardly, consider it a welcoming party.” Smoke materialised in one of the chairs, forming into a man. He seemed unconcerned with their more aggressive stance. “Will you not join me?” 

“Ha, I’d rather chew glass, we are here to kill you.” Geoffrey moved a coat back, a glint of the sword shining in the room. 

“A foolish idea, please come. I have a proposition for the pair of you.” He waved again at the seats. “It would be wise to at least listen.” 

Jonathan took a chair. “Speak quickly, I am not in a generous mood tonight.” Geoffrey stayed standing, his eyes narrowed. 

“Of course, I quite understand. Now, my dear doctor, you have performed rather well during this time. I must admit myself impressed, I was not expecting such dedication yet anything less would have been disappointing.” 

“You fucking murderer.” Geoffrey spat, “Bloodsucker who caused this.” 

“And you? Have you not killed? Why I just saw a corpse in a morgue who died begging for your mercy, a futile idea.” 

Geoffrey simply bared his teeth as Jonathan interjected, “You mentioned a proposition?” 

“Yes quite, I wish for you to burn down the Ascalon club, killing all members inside. That is all.” 

There was a weird silence. “Why would we do that?” Jonathan met Geoffrey’s confused glance. 

“For the fun, for the honor, for the sheer bloodlust, for the revenge, I care little about your particular reasons. I simply want it done, and you both have shown yourself more than capable of killing Ekons.” 

“You two aren’t friends?” Geoffrey leaned against the back of the empty chair. 

“No my dear commander, we have recently found ourselves on divergent pathways. I am not a fan of loose ends.” 

“What’s in it for you? Or you?” 

“I do find your lack of flowery pose rather endearing dear mortal, and such naked honesty ought to be rewarded. For me, I will rid myself of an irritating nuisance who is tarnishing the name of immortals without dirtying my own hands. My foreign friends will get exclusive rights to some rather desirable property which will make them happy and so improve my own mood. For yourselves? Well I am afraid dearest that Jonathan will benefit more directly. I’ll give him my blood.” 

“The fuck would he want with that?” 

“A bottle this size will keep the hunger at bay for 6 months, consider that Jonathan. You could perform proper surgeries again, not drink from rats in the alley when you are terrified of biting your partner. I give you freedom from your worry, from your own self hatred. Be no longer a slave to baser instinct but instead to rise above them, an extraordinary man. You live in a cage, but you can only restrain for so long, one day they will crumble and you will become what you have so long despised. Plus, I will leave these shores, never to return while you are here.” 

“I…” Jonathan swallowed heavily, even corked he could smell the blood from a great distance, the Ekon wasn’t lying. He was from an ancient maker as well. 

“Though in exchange, I’d like some of your lovely blood mortal, for the trip home.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“That is my proposition, consider it. I will be in that rather charming park near your home Reid if you are interested. To note my friends, if you do fight me, there will be many casualties. I have not lived a long life by being slow.” He smiled at the pair and vanished into the night, taking his own blood with him. 

-

Sean was whispering a prayer over the two corpses, hoping to offer their souls some sort of relief. Lottie was the one holding a shovel, ready to move the pair to a mass grave site nearby. The same site the boy’s father had been moved to. She had been the one to burn the clothing off the pair, replacing it with whatever was in the donation box. The girl had a resolutely blank expression, as though preparing corpses had become a mundane task. 

Sean finished, waving her over, “Help the commander bring the corpses over, let them rest properly. I will stay with doctor Reid, he seemed quite lost.” 

“Course.” She gave a sad look towards the man’s office. The pair had emerged looking like death, both covered in blood and human shit as though coming up from hell itself. The doctor has not spoken but hidden from view, mute. It was the commander who explained how the corpses had to be treated. Something horrible had occurred below. 

“You are troubled Dr Reid.” Sean closed the door behind him, looking at the husk of a man sitting on a chair in his office. 

“Do you ever fear losing control Sean?” 

“You have saved me from that particular fate doctor, but I put my trust in God to guide me. Some things are hidden to all but him and to agonize over them would be foolish. We must accept our lack of control doctor, only God has the power to determine our fates.” Sean sat down opposite, his glowing yellow eyes staring at the pale face. 

“I killed my only sister Sean. I felt her lifeblood flowing away, she died knowing I had done that to her. Then I had to repeat the nightmare. Sometimes when I look around, I see not people but vessels to use, to hurt.” 

“You are not properly seeing the gift that was destroyed upon us. You have already seen it’s benefits, to walk among the sick without fear of infection. I am told you helped save my good friend Tom. For that I am grateful doctor.” 

“But that’s not good enough! I could be better than this! I am better than this.” 

“Could you? We are all but living creatures, dwarfed by the vastness of creation and its creator.” 

“We are not though Sean!” Reid got up, he could still smell the blood, a reminder of his own weakness. “We are different.” 

The Skal rose gently, arms wide. “A wise man once asked that god give him the serenity to accept the things he cannot change, courage to change the things he can and the wisdom to know the difference.” He gave the vampire a sad look. “You must learn to accept your own weaknesses Reid, for none of us are angels, none of us perfect. You must find a way to be saved from them, like I am.”

A knock interrupted them, McCullum opened the door a fraction of a second later. “Reid, we should leave, the sun will rise soon.” 

Sean gave a gentle nod as the pair left. He looked down at the small package on his table, a gift from a stranger. 

-

“Don’t leave.” Reid held out a hand to catch the commander. They were one of many hideouts rampant throughout the city. The plague and war went empty houses were common, ghosts all that remained of once prosperous streets. “Stay.” 

“Course.” Geoffrey stripped down to a shirt and undergarments, pushing the vampire aside on a bed. The immortal always sought out heat, and quickly half crawled onto the other man. He felt a pale hand slip under a shirt to rest on his bare chest. “You’re considering his offer.” 

“Yes, it would be foolish not to.” 

Geoffrey moved so he was facing the doctor, “The hunger that bad?” 

“Every second, it gnaws at me. Some moments I am able to distract myself but at moments it is almost overwhelming.” He rolled onto his back. “Do you consider me a monster Geoffrey, or a man?” 

“Neither, don’t think it's that simply with you.” 

“I am frightened to become like Edgar, or Mary.” 

“You won’t, not like them anyway.” 

Jonathan rolled back, letting a hand run down the scar on Geoffrey’s neck, a sign of what Maurevert really was. What Jonathan really was. Each time he looked at the mark he felt only angry, and jealousy, a fierce sense of ownership that made his gut roll with self-loathing. 

“We are cut from the same cloth.” 

“I’m not about to make you feel better about being a bloodsucker. If you want to accept his offer I’ll try to understand and I will go along.” 

“You would?” 

“Course, just make up your mind. I hate him but this is your choice, and I trust your decision. I trust you. Not cuz you’re a man or vampire or whatever, you’re just you.”

The commander rolled his eyes and rolled over. He was far too tired to deal with this right now. He was sore, still smelt vaguely like sewer, mass graves and blood and wanted nothing more than a long shower, hard drink and to sleep. He felt Jonathan’s arms snake around him, his voice whispering softly. “Geoffrey, can we, I mean, would you mind if I.” He trailed off, arms tightening. 

“What?” He turned back, letting a hand cup the other’s face. “What do you want?” 

Reid didn’t answer, finding it difficult to vocalise. He was never one to be at a loss for words, but moments like this were difficult. He wanted warmth, but it was deeper than that. He wanted to feel good, to feel wanted, to feel something other than guilt and anger. But being held wasn’t enough, it needed to be more, closer. 

“Love me.” He whispered then more loudly, “make love to me.” 

Geoffrey opened his mouth to respond, to say something, but nothing came out. So instead he used the moment to kiss, to roll the man onto his back. He moved on to kiss down his collarbone, amazed at how quickly the other was opening to him. It was difficult to not take advantage of it, but he wanted to be gentle, slow. It was more about kisses, touching, slowly undressing his lovely pale cool skin, to lay out his marble creature. 

“Geoffrey.” He pulled on hair, forcing the man up. “Please.” The naked desperation unmasked in his voice. 

Reid let his whole body relax, letting hands that knew how to please him do whatever they liked. It was perfect, simply letting go. Hands moved his hips, angling him causing him to near whimper with expectation. It wasn’t even the physical sensations, as good as they were, it was everything else. It was the panting breath on his chest, the rapidly beating heart, the hot hands pressing into his hips. Reminders that he was wanted, that someone could be brought to such desperate lust. It was how the man moved, Jonathan felt his own pleasure being prioritised, the pace was one he had often sought after. He could hear his own name whispered, not just his name but the names only Geoffrey would call him when they were alone, when they were intimate, a sign of his affection. He moved up, letting his head press into the other man’s collarbone, eager to have filth and kindness groaned into his ears. 

“Bite me Jon.” Geoffrey struggled to keep the pace slow, steady. The way each thrust was making Jonathan moan was driving him insane. He felt the breathing on his neck, fast and desperate as the body moved with him, easily matching his rhythm. 

“Can I?” A whisper. 

“Please.” 

Pain blossomed from his neck, along with the gentle sucking sound. He could feel drops of his own sticky blood on his neck, rolling gently down. “Do I taste good Jon? Can you taste my want? Fuck, you’re so good right now.” 

He felt fangs leave his neck, a taste more than anything else. A sign of trust, of a bond between them. An acceptance of what the other was.

“Yes, please faster.” 

He stubbornly refused, wanting to draw out more soft pleas, but the need to climax was escalating. “You feel so good immortal, so perfect.” He bucked his hips, need pooling in his gut. He moved Jonathan’s head to pull him into a kiss, wet and hardly graceful. He felt fangs dig into his bottom lip and responded by moving faster. “You love me immortal.” He whispered into the creature’s open mouth, still stained by his own blood. “You want my blood, my cock, no one else's. You belong to me.” 

He felt Jonathan’s body spam with the shock of it’s climax, heard the moan loud, one of pleasure and shock, felt the nails grip him as the creature rode out his orgasm. Geoffrey barely managed another thrust before spilling himself. They separate, both still panting. He gazed down at his work with pride, the creature looked wrecked. Neither spoke during the clean up process before setting back into the bed. 

“I do, Geoffrey.” Jonathan curled up close, his confession soft but clear. It asked not for an answer, or even acknowledgement, but to simply exist. A truth finally spoken aloud. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello peoples, sorry for taking so long! Quotes referenced was from the Prince, and Sean of course is referencing the Serenity Prayer. Next chapter should be the last so thank you all for following along and not minding my incredibly nerdy references!


	7. Chapter 7

“This is for scabies and psoriasis” Geoffrey rolled the bottle around in his hands, looking confused. “We really came all the way here so you could make rude comments about my appearance?” 

Jonathan smiled slightly, closing a drawer in his office. “Your physical appearance is as delicious as ever, consider this a self-defense weapon.” 

“As in I can rub it on people and they will be so disgusted or confused that they leave me alone? Yes, a brilliant idea doctor.” 

“It is mostly sulfur, flores sulphuris to be precise. Normally it would be mixed with animal fat to form a skin cream but it can also be taken orally. In layman's terms, it is drinking concentrated garlic.” 

He closed a fist around the bottle, looking up at the doctor. “You want to confront him then.” 

The doctor sighed, leaning back on a bench. “Yes, there seems to be no way around it. The longer we wait the more chaos he might reap, the more lives he might destroy. His attempt at an epidemic may have failed but a loose and violent Ekon is still dangerous.” 

“Hey I’m all for ripping a vampire’s heart out and crushing it underfoot though that may be too quick for him. We might want to try for a longer procedure. I have a list of preliminary ideas that are worth experimenting.” 

“Terrifying Geoffrey.” 

The commander gave him a wolfish smile, pocketing the bottle of sulfur pills. “We have a trap to make then. What about his deal?” 

“We will eventually have to deal with the Ascalon club. If they are guilty of hiring assassins for profiteering then they ought to be punished. However, I would rather not make a deal as it were with Maurevert. The idea of it makes me rather nauseous.” 

“Good, I vote we burn the fuckers down. All of them.” 

“Before we embark on such a plan, I am going to make sure my family is safe. Shall we meet at the Whitechapel base in an hour?” 

“Can’t wait.”

-

“You haven’t visited in a few days sir.” 

Jonathan tried to keep his face neutral, hoping the look of guilt would not be obvious. “I apologize for that, I have been kept busy by several overlapping disasters.” 

“Of course master Jonathan, I simply wished to convey our sadness at your recent disappearance. Your mother had grown accustomed to your visits, myself included. She has grown particularly attached to your gentleman friend, she finds him full of life.” 

“That is a very accurate description, and I hope we will both come visit soon. My visit however is to insist on something that may seem strange but is important. Tonight you must lock up all the windows and open the doors to no one. Do not leave until the sun rises again.” 

“What on earth is wrong sir?” 

“Nothing that can be easily explained, but I must insist on this. I only wish to keep you and mother safe. This need only last one night, please promise to follow my rules.” 

“If you insist, but I find this all unusual.” 

“Of course, but you must trust me.” 

“You are trusted, but master I must enquire, does this new threat have any relation to your recent exploits? You see, I do not like to listen to gossip, or fall prey to baseless assumptions but others in the neighbourhood have documented strange and terrifying incidents. Monsters, they claim. are taking over London. Of course this is all the result of a scared populace who latch onto anything to avoid their own sorrows but I can’t help but listen. I do not like to intrude on people’s privacy sir but most gentlemen tend to not leave sharpened wooden stakes in their rooms.” 

“Monsters can exist everywhere Avery, and if the war taught me anything it’s that monsters can also be anyone.” 

“Yes of course, and fear not, your mother and I will have a quiet evening inside. Be careful sir, in whatever task you are undertaking.” 

He nodded, preparing to leave when footsteps were heard nearby. “Is that you Jonathan? I was starting to worry your spirit had finally found rest.” 

“No mother, I was busy with work at the hospital.” 

“Yes darling, but you made me worry so. My own dearest daughter stopped visiting too. She had such a tormented spirit, so full of anger. I was glad when she found peace, but I would be sad to be forced to say goodbye to both of my children twice so suddenly.” 

Avery had slipped away, leaving the pair alone in the entrance. “I will not leave mother, you can be assured of that.” 

“All spirits must rest eventually, my darling. Death is patient but relentless. No my son, I have lost you once already, I am capable of doing so again but give me just a little longer to prepare. Oh and let your handsome friend come more often, even though he makes me sad.” 

“Makes you sad? I had assumed quite the opposite.” 

“I was hoping your spirit was all mine, a foolish hope I know, but I had hoped you came to visit me. I thought your spirit was just a sad one. That you looked upon all of us with melancholia but no, that look is reserved for me. It hurts to know you stare at others with only adoration, with love.” 

“You know I love you mother.” 

“Yes Jonathan, a mother always knows. It was selfish to want to keep you to myself. A son will always stretch their wings and fly away even as a spirit.” She gave a long lingering look before moving to leave. “Visit me something my own darling boy, you know that you are always welcome at home. I must rest now, all this talk has worn me out.” 

-

Sean finished his rounds, and returned to his office enjoying the stillness. The only real sound was the gentle crackling of candles, illuminating the room in a soft orange glow. He moved towards his own private shrine, while not fancy or ornate it provided the same holy aura to him as the most illustrious church. He knelt down, taking a deep breath as the candles flickered. He was not alone. 

“Who joins my evening prayer?” 

“Not joining, but observing, learning, and now from my point of espial perhaps even a degree of introspection.” 

Sean rose and turned slowly to face the intruder. “Were you not taught to pray? How lost you must feel, but please join me. God will greet you with open arms.” 

“I find that assumption difficult to believe, but if such ideas provide your eternal existence with comfort well then that is miracle enough.” 

“You could also eat from the table of God, for without the sun he must be our only light.” 

The intruder laughed, from more amusement than mirth. “Ah yes for as you walk in the valley of the shadow of death, you fear no evil. A noble stance, or perhaps a foolish one. However, I have not come here to debate theology, I was curious if you liked my gift.” 

“Gift? Hardly stranger, it rang more as a threat than a gift.” 

“Then I deeply apologize, it was given with only the best of intentions. Think of it as an insurance policy. You may believe yourself free, safe, perhaps even a good man but that is the problem with eternity. Time has a terrible habit of changing perspectives. While you are liked now, your flock will turn against you, they will come to see you as a monster. When that moment arrives, it is best to have the sins of this flesh burned away is it not? Consider it a gift Mr Hampton, to help save your soul.” 

“Why are the nails silver?” 

“Ah but Mr Hampton, should you suffer in the name of righteousness then you are truly blessed.” 

“Why give me this gift stranger?” 

“To prove a point, to help cleanse the soul of a fellow. I find it near tragic that one so devoted is so cursed.” 

“My condition was bestowed by God and your blaspheming will do nothing to convince me otherwise. We are all but parts of his divine plan. ” 

“Quite eloquent Mr Hampton, if only all had such strong faith.” He smiled and waved at the opened box, the three silver nails shining under the candle light. “Still, enjoy my gift, after all every good saint should eventually become a martyr.” He laughed at his own joke as the transformed cloud left the room, making the flames flicker again. 

Sean sat in silence for some time after this, staring at the nails. Outside he could hear someone approaching, that friend of Dr Reid’s. He seemed in a rush, grabbing Mr Thorgmorton by the arm and dragging him away. His militia stood nearby, armed for something serious. How easily a man like that saw the world, things were good or they were evil. For him evil, in all its forms, had to be destroyed.

-

Reid watched as the commander whistled to himself, running the whetstone down the edge of a blade. It was an oddly cheerful tune for such an act of premeditated violence. The man stared at his work with a degree of professional pride, a cat admiring its claws. He felt a slight shiver run down his spine, a reminder of what his partner’s intensity could do. 

“Want me to sharpen yours?” Reid snapped him out of his own imagination to stare at his partner. 

“No, thank you. I would also prefer if this doesn’t result in bloodshed.” 

“Would solve all our problems, plus he isn’t exactly a fucking angel.” 

“This could be a difficult fight.” Reid moved closer as the man put down the sword, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. “You do not need to accompany me.” 

“We already went through that shit, I am coming Jon, whether you like it or not.” 

“This is not about your abilities, nor it is a slight against you. I am simply worried, and very unwilling to lose you. You are but a mortal.” 

“We have already had this argument, I am coming, that is it.” 

“I know.” He sighed, then turned the commander to face him, cupping his face. “Please be careful. Have you taken drugs yet?”

“Yes Jon, and I always am. We good to go?” 

“Let me approach first, see if we can settle this before coming to blows.” 

“Fine, but I doubt that will work.” He moved to pull away before the vampire pulled him close again. “You hungry?”

“I am fine, you are the precious one here.” The doctor breathed into him, pulling the familiar warmth close. He hated to leave this moment, for now they were safe. The world was far away, it could not touch them here. It was far too quick for them to break apart, moving towards the door. 

“We can celebrate when this is over.” The commander pulled up a bag of gas grenades and moved through the door, winking at the doctor. 

-

“Pleasant evening.” Reid appeared on the bridge next to the frenchman, who was clearly not dressed for fighting. A beautiful long coat with fur trim which was clearly tailored hung gracefully from his thin frame. Dark leather gloves rested on the bridge railing, as he turned to face the doctor. The gentle breeze carried the scent of perfume. 

“Indeed doctor, a beautiful night indeed. Parks like this remind me of an anecdote. An old acquaintance of mine once commiserated the loss of flowers that results from being a night walker. A botanist you understand. He had a very special type of flower brought to him, no expense was spared. The bush produced these huge white flowers but only at night. Of course one day his pet cat ate some of the leaves and quickly died. I found the flower wonderfully symbolic, a night blooming plant that was quite incredibly toxic.” 

“Was there a point to that tale?” 

The man laughed lightly, “We live eternal lives doctor, must anything have a point? Time is no longer a precious resource, one may waste it freely. Why not spend our immortal lives finding amusement? I enjoy conversing about our shared condition, my dear doctor.” 

Reid swallowed heavily, “You need to leave the island and never return. You are a murderer, a monster and sow chaos for simply cruelty. You are leaving now, walking or in a body bag.” 

“A threat? I thought that between equals we could rise above such primitive language. We the sanguivorous ought to rise above such trite statements. I have been nothing but honest with you my dear fascinating doctor.” 

“You have murdered!” 

“Have you not? In fact, one might view my own crimes as lesser in scale to yours. If a creature dies, then their future time and accomplishments have been stolen. Now if a mortal, say that small sad albino boy dies, what has the universe lost? He will live but a few more years anyway before dying from starvation, disease or simply being impecunious, he will surrender to oblivion having given nothing of great value to society. Is that a life that holds equal value to one of an immortal? You yourself can act as the example, would you have been quite so successful in helping to eradicate flu within London had you had little fear from contracting the disease? Lives are not equal my dear doctor, you would do better to condemn me for eradicating a pest problem.” 

“You care so little for those around you?” 

“I did not say that! I simply have a sense of perspective, an attribute that you sorely lack. I have the sense to view the world in its proper spheres, distinct from each other. Still, I have offered you a deal. A generous one at that, you must simply go burn down the Ascalon club in exchange for my permanent absence from this island. As I do not see smoke in the sky, I would assume the proposition has not been met with due interest. I am disappointed. I was hoping we may increase a camaraderie between us, share ideas, even meals.” 

Jonathan took a steadying breath before jumping at the man, hoping the element of surprise would increase his chances of landing a proper blow. He wasn’t sure what had finally snapped, but it had. A bomb exploded behind Maurevert, both limiting his escape routes and indicating the presence of another foe. Numbers may not win a fight but they do improve the chances. 

Reid dogged backwards, trying to aim a gun in hopes of preserving a very limited blood supply for a more fierce attack. The other vampire was clearly faster, and well fed, he seemed to feel no need to ration attacks. Reid managed to avoid another explosion behind him as shadows littered the ground, but it had been lucky. Luck did not protect him against the claws that ripped through a wool coat and clearly through flesh, deep enough to almost touch the rib cage. Momentum from the hit carried him away from it, allowing him the moment to jump sideways, using whatever blood left to desperately heal. His body ached, quickly reaching its breaking point. Yet no second attack came, instead he found the space to look up. 

It was the casual nature that rendered the biggest worry. How the Ekon seemed unconcerned around sword swings, as though the conclusion was obvious and only a matter of time. Reid tried to stand up, stamina having long been exhausted, desperate to intervene. He only managed to give himself a better view to watch the commander trip backwards, seemingly over nothing, to watch his careful defensive stance fall away. It was a simple grab for the vampire to clasp a back and a handful of hair and sink fangs into a now open neck. 

The look of easy pride on the vampire’s face fell, the eyes that had locked with Reid, triumphant, had suddenly fallen. He pulled apart from his victim, face contorting. 

“Fuck you.” Geoffrey gripped a sword and easy thrust forward, plunging it through the assailant, causing his collapse. His footing seemed to have too quickly recovered for the fall to have been natural. 

Silence fell, broken by the dry gurgling on the ground. “Is he dead?” Reid managed to stand, swaying slightly. 

“No, fuckers are hard to kill.” The commander pulled a long chair from his coat. “Best to tie him somewhere outside, sun will do the rest. He will be near unconscious for a little while yet. Is the other immortal vampire alright?” 

“I misjudged the difficulty. Thank you Geoffrey.” 

“Don’t mention it, plus you can repay me later. Now to dispose of this fucker.”

Reid felt his chest tighten, “Would fire do it?” 

“No, but it would hurt and prevent healing.” 

“Chain him up then, we can do two birds with one burning torch.” Reid swallowed, his mouth horribly dry. “I did promise a bonfire.” 

The commander gave a loud laugh, “I like that Jon.” 

-

Reid staggered into the main street of the east end, finding a small group already gathered there. Ichabod ran towards him, looking a mixture of nervous and excited. He tried to stand at attention in mock military fashion as the commander, still dragging a body, came into view. 

“You appear quite sick doctor!” He turned to Reid, eyes locked on holes in his coat, slashing wounds. “It must have been a serious battle!” 

“What are you doing here?” 

“We were called to be of assistance, the commander asked for help.” He gestured at the steel drum nearby. “We brought petroleum.” Several members of the guard of Priwen had joined them at this point. 

“The area is surrounded, Reid, no one has entered or left this evening. We are ready to start whenever.” He nodded to the commander, “We are ready to go sir.” 

“You did this?” Reid turned to Geoffrey. 

“Of course, now let’s get a move on.” He shrugged, blood still fresh on his collar. “Alright we need to board up all the doors and windows on the bottom floor. Everyone goes in a group.” 

Ichabod sat down next to Reid, his face still concerned. “You don’t look good, doctor.” 

“I’ll soon feel better, but thank you Mr Throgmorton.” 

“Can I help?” 

Reid looked up confused, the man’s earnest gaze met his. Geoffrey wandered over to the pair, “You look like shit Jon, are you doing alright?” 

“The good doctor needs help I think.” Ichabod started looking around. “There’s an alley over there if you prefer privacy.” 

“Privacy?” Reid repeated back. 

“You need blood right?” Ichabod’s voice dropped very low, eyes darting around nervously. “Well, I think I can help. You have helped so many doctor, and I was hoping to repay your generosity.” 

“You know?” 

“Yes doctor, now may I help you please?” 

“Go Jon, you look terrible, and we might need your help later.” The commander patted Ichabod’s shoulder in an approving manner. 

“I can’t.” Reid started but was quickly interrupted. 

“You are a good man doctor, please let me help you. Vampires are just people after all, not all are monsters.” The hunter had a pleading look on his face. “Let me help.” 

Geoffrey moved away, leaving the pair, recognising the look of caving on Jonathan’s face. He rubbed his own aching neck but his blood was still pumping with adrenaline. Hatred burned hot. He moved to join his own soldiers, ready to set the earth on fire. How dare anything make his own powerful doctor look so distraught. The world was going to burn. 

-

“Who’s there?” 

“Here to usher in your death leech.” Geoffrey stood in the main hallway, spitting on the carpet, eyes not moving away from the gaze of the vampire emerging from his office. Still holding his gaze he dumped the now writhing body covered in Jonathan’s now destroyed coat on the floor. “I suppose we were never introduced but honestly I couldn’t give less of a fuck.” He pulled out a bottle and began to dump it. 

“As though a mortal could threaten me.” Lord Redgrave snidely responded, seemingly unconcerned. 

“I wouldn't be so calm.” Jonathan closed the back door, hearing it being bolted behind him. The taste of blood thick on his tongue, an injection of fire into his veins. 

-

The ground hit hard, especially from the second floor. Even immortal, his bones felt bruised on the hard grass. Smoke blotted out the sky above, flames now coming out from the windows. He rolled over, feeling the reassuring rise and fall of his companion abdomen. 

“Fuck me.” The commander coughed out the phrase, leaning back into the grass. Sweat covered his face, a mixture of heat and exertion. A faint smell of blood cut through the smoke, scratches from claws, and the glass window. Pain and exhaustion painted his face. 

“I think we had better reserve that for later.” Reid groaned as he sat up, body starting to mend itself. 

“Hilarious.” The man laughed, stopping only to cough. 

“We need to move.” The both clambered up, wobbly from the fall and lack of oxygen. “You smell like blood, anything serious?” 

“Nah, he was seriously out of practice, the old fuck. The french shit barely managed to graze a leg, good thing the chains held.” 

“Shame about your sword though.” 

“Seems an appropriate burial though, nailing a leech to a wall in a burning house.” He leaned into the vampire, panting heavily. 

“You think Maurevert will be able to get out?” 

“Maybe, but doubt he will want to come back after this.” 

“I hope you are right, now I think you might need to visit a hospital.” 

“Fine but I have a private doctor.” 

“I think he might have visiting hours tonight too.” 

-

Thelma stumbled in the dark, the night sky illuminated by fire. The streets felt cold, frozen yet burning. She moved towards light, wanting to stare at the administrator’s dead body again. Somehow the cold skin and white fangs called to her, as though they offer an illicit truth. The morgue was so close. She slipped around a pillar, suddenly stopping. The shadow on the ground seemed to shimmer. 

“Good evening sister.” 

-

Reid slipped into the patient’s room, checking to make sure his white coat lay flat and professional. The room held two beds, all bathed in the artificial light of nearby lampposts. He closed the door behind him, trying to not awaken anyone. 

“Don’t need to be like that, doubt a fucking train horn would wake him up.” The right bed’s occupant was sitting upright, reading. He had a paleness to him, fatigue around the eyes. Reid felt the guilty pang that the week’s adventures had been difficult on more than just himself. While he healed quickly, others did not. 

“And how are you feeling this evening Mr McCullum?” 

“Don’t call me that Jon, and fine.” 

“Most patients wouldn’t call a broken rib, several lacerations and dislocated hip ‘fine’ Geoffrey. How is the pain?” He picked up the patient’s chart, checking on notes.

“It sucks, but I’m not exactly new to the concept of pain Jon. When can I leave?” He put down the book, an aged copy of the play Doctor Faustus. 

“Not for a few days at least, your wounds need to be healing properly before you go anywhere. At this stage I am worried you will rip out your stitches, and we must monitor for any infections. Your throat alone needs time to heal properly from breathing in fumes. Injuries like this take longer than a few days, have patience Geoffrey, you are in capable hands.” 

He looks irritated but defeated. “I know that, I just hate hospitals.” He looked over at the snoring patient next to him. “How’s the wannabe hunter?” 

“Recovering, he simply needs rest and plenty of fluids to recover from blood loss.” Jonathan refused to meet the man’s gaze. 

“He offered Jon, and trust me he doesn’t feel angry about it. Considers the whole thing a huge learning experience and wants to add a whole new chapter to his book. Been pestering me constantly about my own experience with bites.” 

“That is a relief. I must check in on my other patients shortly but heard one of your boys visited during the day. Did he bring any sort of news?” 

“Only the bits the paper left out. Local detective suspects the arson was done by a suspicious foreigner seen around the mansion over the past few weeks. None of the locals were able to add anything other than that they saw a small band trying to fight the fire. Apparently you’re being painted as quite the hero, jumping from a window to rescue people.” 

“Are they sure it was Lord Redgrave’s corpse?” 

“Positive, looks like he managed to get the sword out but only got a few feet farther. They didn’t find another body on the main floor.” 

“Yes I heard. Looks like he slipped away. A boat just recently left for France carrying supplies, he must have gone home.” 

“I guess we won then.” 

“In a sense yes, but we are still alive which matters a great deal more.” 

“I heard they found one of the patients from here carved up on the street, did you know her?” 

“Yes, her name was Thelma, a poor confused soul. She must have encountered Maurevert as he fled. Her loss hurts a great deal. Now I must go, please try to rest Geoffrey.” 

“I will, I hear the doctor’s here can be real monsters. Now come closer before leaving.” 

Reid moved to sit on the hospital bed, trying to maintain a professional facade. The mortal moved closer, pulling him towards an embrace. He felt his body shake, unable to stay distant but terrified of letting go. A warm, welcoming mouth found his demanding attention. He pulled the man closer, wanting to escape into this. He finally pulled away, enjoying the feeling of warm panting breath on his face. 

“I’m so sick of feeling horrible Jon.” The man murmured into his mouth, moving for another long kiss. 

“Heal my darling, then I promise you days of nothing but pleasure.” 

“I can’t fucking wait Jon, maybe wear that coat too.” He pulled away, a delicious pink blush on his face. It was difficult to leave.

-

Bridget looked at the small pile of ash on the table, laying neatly on a handkerchief. 

“It is strange, my love for him faded so long ago yet I still feel a degree of sorrow at his loss.” 

Sean leaned across the table, “It is not strange at all, we never truly forget those which we loved.” 

“Yes I suppose so. Thank you for bringing these to me, it was a kind gesture.” 

“Do you wish to know the method of his passing?” 

“No, that I have already guessed, and I bear no ill will towards the perpetrators. At the moment I hold only sadness.” 

“Have you ever wished to die Bridget?” 

“Many times, it was near constant at first. However, time helps to heal all wounds and my great cure was in building this place. I found the suffering lessened as I helped others.” 

“Do you worry about what you will become?” 

“No, for I am me, nothing more and nothing less. I have met Skals that think their own destruction could be viewed as an act of bravery, or goodness to the world but I refuse to believe that. Martyrdom may be a powerful symbol but can it really supplant the goodness that one might have achieved? Can one act of violence truly be better than a thousand smaller acts of peace? No Sean, we must struggle on.” 

“Thank you Bridget.” He smiles at her, leaving their table. 

“Sean, you left a package here!” 

“No, I unburdened myself.” 

She looked down, opened the bag to find three long nails, each pure silver. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Epilogue**

“As you can see my dear colleges, their energy, their comfort, their very lives have been salvaged by such a simple remedy.” Dr Whipple waved around as they left the patient wing of the research center. “It is often the simplest cures that are the most important.” 

The numerous other members of the audience clapped politely, some from genuine admiration other to hide their spite that they hadn’t considered the idea themselves. Reid smiled with them, shook hands and engaged in small talk. Some sought him out, they were curious about the Spanish flu, or about his own work, others politely inquiring about his journey. After the war, and the Titanic, cruises across the Atlantic were viewed with a fraction more caution than before. 

“I am pleased to finally meet you Dr Reid.” Whipple had made his way through the crowd of jealous peers and well wishers. “I have heard only compliments about your research. Your recent article on the use of dried plasma instead of full blood in transfusions had me quite dizzy with excitement. Such a technique could allow a far more portable system of transfusions, even perhaps preservation. I always enjoy meeting visionaries, particularly such young ones.” 

“Thank you, though it was in collaboration with my own colleagues back in London and with some fantastic people in Bryn Mawr Hospital on this side of the ocean.” 

The man motioned that they continue their conversation while walking, “My visitors mentioned an evening out tonight. Rochester has many wonderful venues for entertainment. You ought to accompany us. I should love to talk about opportunities to work together, I think we would well compliment each other.” 

“I would love to and thank you for the invitation, however a friend of mine just arrived tonight from England. I must go meet him.” 

“Of course, please stop by my office tomorrow.” 

Reid nodded, but left quickly. He tried to avoid using too many of his own powers to speed to the lovely flat in the city core. It had been a long time since he had visited America, and had jumped at the opportunity to see it again. Perhaps it was also the desire to chance the scenery, to become unknown again. That being said, something was missing here, well not for much longer. He jumped up the stairs, hearing a familiar heartbeat inside. 

“Jon, I thought you would be out until late.” Geoffrey barely managed to finish his sentence before being grabbed, any other words prevented by a long kiss. 

“Missed you.” Jonathan breathed into him, revering in the familiarity of it all. 

“You too, though ships are bullshit. Half the people were sick the entire time. I swear I saw more vomit during this trip then during my stint at an actual hospital.” 

Jonathan pulled at an arm, “Tell me after.” He was guiding the man towards the nearest surface, “Want you now. Why couldn’t you come earlier.” He breathed more scent in, intoxicated on it. It had a hint of the sea, of smelly docks, of old sweat but was still wonderfully him. 

“My job Jon, you know that. Still you were so patient, that ought to be rewarded.” 

Jonathan could feel his chest constrict, need pouring into veins as the man’s scent filled everything. He had been patient, had come here alone, slept alone and wanted to feel heat again. He had satisfied himself with only memories this whole time and the real thing was within reach. He went in for another kiss, not bothering to hide need or hunger. The commander pulled away, pupils wide and dropped down to his knees. Hands immediately ran into the mortal’s hair, as he unbuckled trousers, pushing cloth aside. Jonathan let himself go, focusing on the wet warmth, the talented tongue and the delicious smell. He knew he wouldn’t last long, but cared little. 

“Weren’t lying about missing me.” Geoffrey laughed, whipping away any remnants of Jonathan’s climax dripping from his mouth. He got a moan in response. “Tell your fancy doctor friends that you had to rush away from learning about the future of medicine to get your cock sucked?” 

“I was a bit more diplomatic.” Jonathan was still breathless as he fixed his clothes. He pulled the man up to kiss again. “The medical part of the evening was already over.” 

“Ah of course, make me feel special.” He snorted, moving into the sitting room of the flat. “This place is fucking fancy.” 

“My family’s estate can manage a few nice set of rooms.” He collapsed on a sofa, pulling his partner down, eager to lie in his lap, surrounded by heat. “How was the trip?” 

“Uneventful, oh I broke a man’s nose though.” 

A sigh, “Need I ask?” 

“Me and a lovely lass were chatting when an english pig asked some highly rude questions about our heritage, made some implications and finished with a crude proposition towards the young lady. Then he fell into my fist, the result of terrible balance. I of course got a doctor to check on him.” 

“How kind of you.” 

“Of course, and you? How are the yankees?” 

“Fine people, Whipples is helping to create a fine institution here. He found a way to treat anemia with simple intervention of cow liver. The simplicity and cheapness of the remedy ought to be praised on its own.” 

“Cheap is good.” Geoffrey half listened, playing with Jonathan’s hair instead, running down to play with a beard earning him a near purr.

“He seems intent on recruiting me.” 

“Interested?” 

“It would be a lie to say no. It would be nice to work in an institution that is properly funded, with the latest technology.” 

“Hmmm.” Geoffrey curled up closer. “Does sound tempting.” 

“Of course, but I already informed him that I am needed back in London. Mother has already planned a visit to France, and the sea air would be good for her. Plus we just picked out a flat there and I would hate all the decisions about wallpaper to go to waste.” 

“Your decisions you mean.” 

“Yes quite, and my books only just got moved in, I would hate to repeat the whole process.” 

“Good.” 

“You prefer it there?” 

“It’s home.” 

“Yes it is, but we are on vacation now. I have heard there are many marvels to see in Rochester, perhaps we should sample the local sites.” 

“Tomorrow, I think I want to sample our bedroom tonight.” 

-

Jonathan stared at the wonderful image in front of him. Even staring with only his vampiric senses, it was thrilling to watch a body respond physiologically to arousal. The heart rate increased, filling the now relaxed veins with hot blood, trying to cool the body by flooding surface capillaries giving the skin a lovely blush. 

“Jon, fuck come on.” The breath was full of panting, unsteady in its delivery with a hint of pleading. 

“I’ve had to wait for you my love, now you must wait for me.” Jonathan watched, his own body screaming with want as muscles relaxed under his fingers. 

“Bastard.” A body rolled gently, searching for more stimulation. 

“Ask for me then my love.” 

“Jon you fucking shit.” 

Jonathan smiled, curling his fingers. He could watch the heart speed up as a result, hear the soft gasping. “How rude, only politeness should be rewarded.” 

“This is torture Jon.” 

“Oh my love, you are so beautiful right now. I want to pleasure you more, my own darling, but you must ask.” 

The man groaned loudly, “Fuck Jon, please, I want you.” 

The vampire quickly pulled the man onto his own lap, barely letting him catch breath before pushing. Tight heat made the doctor moan happily. “You’re so good my love.” 

“Move Jon, my Jon.” Hands clung at shoulders while hips ground down desperate for sensation. 

“Yes love, anything for you.” He groaned, rocking his own hips feeling nails press against his own skin. “My lovely powerful dangerous man.” 

The vampire held the man close, matching his near desperate rhythm, forcing more lovely sounds from his partner. 

“Bite me.” 

Jonathan felt his partner fall apart, the overwhelming sensation of hot blood and a climaxing body around his own pushed him quickly to follow. 

“I love you.” Blood soaked mouth left kisses on a face. 

“You too Jon.” A body panting, shaking and overstimulated but buried into the vampire. Sticky, exhausted and satisfied but as always, equals. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking this one out! I realise this chapter was a long one, but wanted to wrap everything up! For anyone curious, yes Flores Sulphuris (flowers of sulfur) was used in skin treatments as it helped with infections. At the end: Dr George Whipple did help cure anemia by feeding patients animal liver (he jointly won the 1934 Nobel prize along with his research partner). Have a lovely day all of you!


End file.
